


A series of fiction

by WinterSnow10



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Angshty sex, Arguing, Borderline Personality Disorder, Car Sex, Christmas Fluff, Collage, Coming twice, Cute, Depression, Established Relationship, Fingering, Fluff, Fluffy, Funny, Getting Together, Humor, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jealousy, Kinks, Love, M/M, Never Have I Ever, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other: See Story Notes, Overstimulation, See notes for other tags, Self-Harm, Smut, Talk of sex, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M, Unrelated fics, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Weddings, give me prompts, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:58:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 110
Words: 97,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9118663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSnow10/pseuds/WinterSnow10
Summary: Adam Lallana/Jordan HendersonOlivier Giroud/Granit XhakaMax Meyer/ Julian BrandtDele Alli/Eric DierErik Lamela/Christian EriksenSergio Ramos/Gérard PiqueDavide Calabria/ Manuel LocatelliMatteo Darnian/Mattia De ScigiloAaron Ramsey/Jack WilshireTimo Werner/Oliver BurkeAdam Lallana/Jordan HendersonShane Long/ Robbie BradyLaurent Koscielny/ Hugo LlorisJohannes Geis/ Max MeyerKevin De Bruyne/Eden HazardMax Meyer/Julian DraxlerHugo Lloris/Eric DierKevin De Bruyne/Eden HazardPhilippe Coutinho/Emre CanDries Mertens/ Jan VertonghenEden Hazard/Juan MataVincent Janssen/Harry WinksEden Hazard/Juan MataHugo Lloris/Eric DierDele Alli/Harry WinksEden Hazard/Juan MataDries Mertens/ Jan VertonghenEden Hazard and Gareth BaleJordan Henderson/James MilnerLeo Messi/ Kun AgüeroEden Hazard/Alexis SanchezLuke Shaw/Harry KaneDries Mertens/ Jan VertonghenKevin De Bruyne/Eden HazardJames Rodriguez/Toni KroosToby Alderweireld/Vincent JanssenSee notes for more pairings





	1. Jordan Henderson/Adam Lallana

**Author's Note:**

> Toby Alderweireld/Eric Dier  
> Robert Lewandowski/Wojciech Szczęsny  
> Jesse Lingard/Marcus Rashford  
> James Rodríguez/Cristiano Ronaldo  
> Hugo Lloris/Eric Dier  
> Adam Lallana/Jordan Henderson  
> Luke Shaw/Harry Kane  
> Kevin De Bruyne/Eden Hazard  
> Hugo Lloris/Eric Dier  
> Mesut Özil/Alexis Sánchez  
> Mousa Dembélé/Jan Vertonghen  
> Gerard Pique/Sergio Ramos(others)  
> Toby Alderweireld/Vincent Janssen  
> Jan Vertonghen/Toby Alderweireld/Eric Dier  
> Isco/James Rodriguez  
> ×Christian Eriksen/Vincent Janssen  
> Neymar/James Rodríguez  
> Dries Mertens/Jan Vertonghen  
> Mats Hummels/Manuel Neuer  
> Gerard Pique/Sergio Ramos(others  
> Dries Mertens/Jan Vertonghen  
> Toby Alderweireld/Vincent Janssen/Harry Winks.  
> Manuel Neuer/Toni Kroos.  
> Max Meyer/Julian Draxler  
> Leo Messi/Neymar  
> James Rodriguez fluffy fic  
> Gerard Pique/Sergio Ramos  
> Fernando Torres/ Antoine Griezmann  
> Jesse Lingard/Marcus Rashford  
> Bernd Leno/Marc-André ter Stegen  
> Christian Eriksen/Harry Kane  
> David Alaba/Kingsley Coman  
> Eden Hazard/James Rodríguez  
> Gerard Piqué/Sergio Ramos  
> Alvaro Morata/Paulo Dybala  
> Hugo Lloris/Toby Alderweireld  
> Toby Alderweireld/Hector Bellerin  
> Julian Weigl/Joshua Kimmich  
> Julian Draxler/ Max Meyer  
> Bernd Leno/Julian Brandt  
> Leo Messi/Sergio Ramos  
> Jakub Błaszczykowski/Łukasz Piszczek  
> Hugo Lloris/Eric Dier  
> Marc Bartra/Roman Burki  
> Jesse Lingard/Marcus Rashford  
> Harry Kane/Jamie Vardy  
> Luke Shaw/Harry Kane.  
> Aaron Ramsay/Jack Wilshire  
> Jan Vertonghen/Toby Alderweireld/Eric Dier  
> Julian Brandt/Kevin Volland  
> Eric Dier/Jan Vertonghen/Toby Alderwiereld  
> Marcus Rashford/Jesse Lingard  
> Joe Hart/Jack Butland.  
> Eric Dier/Harry Kane.  
> Gerard Pique/Sergio Ramos  
> Ben Davies/ Kieran Trippier  
> Kyle Walker/Eric Dier  
> Luke Shaw/Harry Kane  
> Bernd Leno/Marc-Andrè ter Stegen  
> Harry Kane/Hugo Lloris  
> Robert Lewandowski/Wojciech Szczęsny  
> Kevin de Bruyne/Eden Hazard  
> Vincent Janssen/Eric Dier  
> Luke Shaw/Harry Kane  
> Marcus Rashford/Jesse Lingard  
> Harry Kane/Luke Shaw

Adam, what was that?” Jordan demanded with his Captain voice. 

“What was what?” Adam asked, playing stupid. 

“You nearly broke De Bruyne in half with that tackle, I’m surprised you didn’t get a straight red for it,” Jordan sighed as he caged Adam against the locker room shower. 

The team were silent, the taste in the air of losing all three points bitter and sickening. Jordan pressed closer to Adam, staring into the shorter man’s eyes. 

“He got in my way,” Adam shrugged. 

“He got in your way? What sort of excuse is that?” Jordan sighed. 

“How about you get off of my case, Henderson? Can you just fuck off for once?!” Adam growled. He went to move away, but Jordan was taller and stronger. 

The older man was still pushed flush against the wall. 

“I care about you, that’s why, so babe, will ya come on?” Jordan asked. 

“How about, you fuck off, mate,” Adam spat angrily, his eyes blazing. 

“I’m not backing down from this, Lallana, you’ll lose.” 

“Like we lost today?” Adam challenged with a smirk. 

“Is that your problem? For fuck’s sake Adam, get over it. You’d have thought with the way you were behaving somebody had murdered your prized pig,” Jordan scoffed. 

“Are you going to let me go, or are you going to keep me here?” 

“I’ll let go of you once you tell me what’s wrong.” 

“Fuck off, Henderson!” Adam shouted as he pushed Jordan away from him. 

It became a pushing and shoving match between the two of them. Jordan pushed Adam hard against the wall before he crashed their lips together in a rough, bruising kiss. Jordan pulled Adam closer and opened his mouth with his tongue. Adam’s fingers knotted in Jordan’s hair, pulling him closer. Jordan reached down and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. 

“You’re lucky that I love you,” Adam growled before he bit at Jordan’s lip. 

“I feel so special,” Jordan grinned as he kissed down Adam’s neck, sucking and biting at the soft skin. 

“You are special, love.” 

The two of them kissed again and again - until Adam pulled away. 

“We really should be going,” he said with a smirk as he squeezd the obvious bulge in Jordan’s trousers. 

“You prick,” Jordan muttered before he kissed him fiercely. 

They made it to the car. Jordan would definitely bruise tomorrow from the sheer force of Adam pushing him into walls to kiss him senseless. 

“Ever had sex in a car, Jor?” Adam smirked. 

“I’m not fucking you in the stadium car park,” Jordan said, outraged. 

“Eh, yeah you will,” Adam grinned as he pulled Jordan into the backseat. 

The captain was resting precariously on Adam before pulling down his trousers and sitting up. Adam gave Jordan a smirk and took the head of his cock in his hot mouth. His tongue worked over the slit before Adam sucked on the pulsing vein. Jordan tangled his fingers into the damp mop of hair as he pushed Adam down further. After a few more minutes Adam pulled off with an obscene pop. 

“You gonna fuck me, or just gonna sit there and look pretty?” Adam challenged as he felt around for the lube and condoms he had hidden in the car. 

Jordan smirked before he pulled Adam back to his lap, slipping his shorts off. The captain ran a hand over his lower back before he took the lube and squirted the cold liquid directly over Adam’s entrance. 

“Prick, that shit’s cold.” 

Jordan rolled his eyes as he prepped Adam, not really needing to do much after their morning together. 

“How do you want it?” Jordan asked bluntly as he rolled the condom onto himself. 

Adam repositioned himself to straddle Jordan. He lined up his boyfriend’s cock with his open hole and, inch by inch, sank down on it. Once he was fully seated, he began bouncing up and down before he fused their lips together in a messy kiss. Both of them were close to coming, and Adam’s muscles had started to cramp in the position. He had played the full ninty minutes, which left Jordan to do all of the work now, snapping his hips up into the older man. They came together, and Adam dropped his head on to Jordan’s shoulder. 

“Never again, I’m never fucking you in a car again,” Adam moaned as he pulled his shorts up, once he got off of Jordan’s lap. 

“Agreed,” Jordan sighed before he stole a kiss and yanked his bottoms up from his knees. 

“I love you, even if I’m still mad at you,” Adam sighed. 

“Excuse me, I’m the person that is going to be black tomorrrow because someone liked pushing me into the corners to kiss me,” Jordan said, exacerbated, as he moved on jelly-like legs to the front seat. 

Adam followed his movements; his thighs were killing him. 

“I’ll massage them later,” Jordan offered. 

“I know you will, Henderson.” 

Jordan rolled his eyes and kissed Adam one last time before they drove back to their house.


	2. Olivier Giroud/ Granit Xhaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivier had saved them again, had saved those three important points and Granit is forced to make the Frenchman realise something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff  
> Kissing

That header had saved them. Olivier had saved them and gotten them all three points. Granit thought he could fall to his knees and thank him. But he wouldn’t, he coudn’t. He knew that Taulant was watching and his heart swelled, knowing that his big brother had come to watch him play. He was so distracted that he almost missed the wink that Oli shot his way. There was no way that Granit could stop the blood rushing to his cheeks, a silly smile on his face. After showering and changing, Granit sat for a minute, tapping a text to his brother. This time he didn’t miss Olivier slide onto the bench beside him. 

“Tu as bien joué,” Granit smirked. 

“Couldn’t have done it worth Mes, isn’t that right, midfield maestro?” Olivier laughed, and the German shrugged. 

“What are you doing later?” Oli turned back to Granit. 

“Well, my brother’s here, so we’re going to have a few drinks and he’s going back to his hotel before he flies out tomorrow. Why?” Granit wondered. 

“I was just wanting to talk to you about something. Do you want to come to my house after you have drinks with your brother?” Olivier asked. 

Granit nodded and grabbed his bag, leaving Oli and Mesut in the dressing room. 

“Are you going to tell him?” Mes asked, his brows raised. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know?” The answer came out more like a question. 

“You should,” the German international stated before he left Olivier in the dressing room to ponder his thoughts. 

If there was one thing Oli hated about living in London, it was the weather. The rain was poring and he was nearly soaked just getting out of his car and into his house. After a long hot shower and some TV, Olivier decided to head to bed. It was nearly one in the morning because of stupid boxsets; ‘one episode’ never meant ‘just one’ anymore. Just as he turned off the light, somebody started banging on his door. Who could it be out in that weather? 

“Granit? Come inside, what are you doing?” Olivier asked as he dragged the Swiss international into his house. 

“You told me you wanted to talk about something,” Granit giggled, slightly drunk. 

The younger man was shaking with cold, his dark hair sticking to his forehead. 

“How drunk are you?” 

“Not too bad.” 

“Go take a shower, I’ll make you something to eat.” Olivier grinned as he pointed to the bathroom. “I’ll bring you something to wear.” 

Olivier grabbed the clothes and brought them into the bathroom, where he caught sight of Granit’s figure in the frosted glass paneling. Oli had to shake his head before he went to the kitchen and made something for them both. Okay, he made them toasted cheese sandwiches, but it would be fine as long as Wenger didn’t find out. Olivier was just finishing the food when Granit walked out, Olivier’s hoody hanging off of him. 

“Are you trying to kill me?” Granit wondered as he took a bite into the hot gooey cheese. 

“No, they’re the smallest things I own.” 

They ate in silence before Granit asked the question. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Granit questioned. 

“It’s not important.” 

“Well, I think I could guess.” Granit grinned before he pressed his lips to Olivier’s. 

“How did you guess?” Oli asked. 

“You mutter when you sleep,” Granit smirked before he kissed Oli again. 

“Va te faire foutre,” Olivier laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave your prompt below.


	3. Max Meyer/Julian Brandt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Julian meet again and somethings happen.
> 
> Fluff and kissing mentioned sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave prompts in the comments

Max trudged from the bench and into the locker room. He couldn’t believe it. The young midfielder would’ve settled for a point, but to have it ripped away in the last minute of game time? That was sickening. He felt Leon’s warm hand squeeze his shoulder. 

“We played well,” Leon said. He sounded as dejected as Max looked. 

“Not well enough,” Max replied as he headed off to the showers. 

In the showers, Max saw the images of Julian running and flouncing, as Julian himself once said. He missed playing with the man. Max shut his eyes tightly as he thought about Julian. He wanted to go and talk to the younger player, but he knew that seeing his face would just make the loss sting even more. 

Julian caught sight of him when he was leaving the dressing room, his royal blue gear bag slung over his shoulder. Julian couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He headed over to the older man, a smile ever present. Max turned when he heard Julian call his name. 

“How are you?” Julian asked kindly. 

“Why do you care?” Max grunted, and Jules took a step back. 

“Because we’re friends?” Julian wondered. 

“If you say so,” Max muttered before he walked off. 

Jules was shaking silently when he got on the bus. He sat down beside Bernd, hoping that the keeper would know what to do. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Bernd questioned as they headed back to the hotel. Usually they would be driving back to Leverkusen, but tonight they weren’t. Julian didn’t know or really care why.

 

Once he was settled into his seat, Julian explained what happened with Max, and Bernd clicked his lips. 

“You know where he lives?” 

“Yes.” 

“Go to his house, or whatever he lives in, and ask him. We aren’t leaving until 12pm or something like that. You’ll have enough time,” Bernd grinned. 

“You’re supposed to be a good influence,” Julian frowned. 

Max sighed when he heard a knock at his door. He put down his glass of wine – yes, wine. He grunted when he saw Julian’s blond head, but walked back to his seat nevertheless. Julian took it as an offer and walked in, closing the door behind him before sitting down by Max’s feet. The Schalke attacker was curled around the black cushion. 

“I’d offer you some, but I don’t think wine is your style,” Max muttered. 

Julian frowned as he reached out to rub over Max’s pronounced ankle bone. Max shot him a look, but it didn’t deter Julian. They sat like that for a few minutes, Max sipping and Julian looking at the TV, where a documentary was playing. Max began to let himself slip down further until his legs were resting over Julian’s leg. 

“Are you going to talk to me?” Julian wondered. 

“What do you want to talk about?” Max mumbled as he put the wine glass onto the table. 

Max shuffled down closer to Julian. He swung his legs so they were where his head had been a minute ago. Julian threaded his fingers through the mousy hair, grinning when he caught sight of Max. 

“I dunno, maybe why you nearly ate me earlier?” 

“I was angry,” Max grumbled as he backed his head into Julian’s blunt nails. 

“I know you were, but you said some things…” Julian sounded so hurt. 

Max turned to look at the taller player, his own blue-green eyes filled with regret and sadness. 

“I’m sorry, you know I couldn’t do anything without you,” Max whispered as he lay his head on Julian’s shoulder. 

“But, why didn’t you just talk to me?” 

“Because I was stupid. I wanted to go and talk to you, but seeing your face just made the loss worse.” 

“Maxsi…” Max couldn’t repress a smile at the pet name. “You know that the second we finish a match against each other…” Julian didn’t know how to finsh the message, but it was understood. 

“I know, I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at everybody else: the fourth official, the players - but not you. Never you.” Max sighed as he nuzzled into Julian’s neck. 

“I know, it was just…It hurt a lot.” Julian frowned, and Max kissed the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Julian kissed him softly for a minute, still tasting the wine on Max’s tongue. He cupped the nape of the smaller man’s neck, bringing him closer. 

“Make me forget, make me forget everything. Male me forget my own name, just make me forget.” Max was straddling the taller man, his knees bent. 

He kissed Julian with all that he had, his own hands threading and knotting in Julian’s silky blond locks. When they broke apart for some much needed air, Julian slid the pad of this thumb over Max’s cheekbone, looking into his beautiful eyes. 

“Are you sure?” Julian asked. Max might have been older, but he looked so much younger. 

“I’m positive, Jules.” Max smiled before he sucked a dark purple mark into Julian’s pale skin. 

“Ow,” the younger man complained before he reclaimed Max’s lips. 

They broke away to pull off their clothes before Max kissed him all the way to the bedroom. 

The next morning Max woke up with soft pecks all along his neck and cheeks. He opened his eyes and looked at Julian. 

“I gotta go,” he informed Max regretfully.  
Max nodded before he kissed him softly. 

“Let me know when you get back safely.” 

“What are we?” 

Max took a minute to think before he rubbed their noses together. 

“We’re us, Jules.” 

When Julian arrived back at the hotel, he saw a few guys snicker. It was only when Bernd covered the mark that he understood why. 

“Good time?” Bernd smirked. 

“Go talk to ter Stegen or something,” Julian muttered as he pulled up his jacket collar


	4. Dele Alli/ Eric Dier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric makes Dele getting a brace into something even more rewarding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut  
> Comming twice  
> Kissing

Eric caught Dele before he had the change to get into the showers; he pressed the younger man up against the wall, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. 

“I’m going to make you come twice,” Eric whispered before he bit at the lobe of the chocolate-brown ear. 

All through his shower, all Dele could think about was Eric’s promise. He was excited; he knew that Eric would reward him for both goals, and Dele relished in the attention. Once they were on the bus heading back to the hotel, Dele felt a hand brush against his. He spotted Eric in the dark. 

“I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel,” Eric whispered into Dele’s ear as he splayed his hand on his boyfriend’s leg. 

“Eric,” Dele breathed as Eric moved his hand up and down Dele’s thigh, inching closer and closer to his groin. 

Dele looked over to the two players sitting beside them, Hugo and Harry. Both had their earphones in, and their heads were resting against each other. Dele bit into his lips to suppress the groan that Eric had caused by pressing his hand onto Dele’s crotch, rubbing his fingers over the hardening length and dragging his lips over Dele’s pulse point, sucking lightly. 

“Ric, Eric, not here, you can’t make me come here,” Dele whimpered as he dropped his head to Eric’s shoulder. 

“Who said I was letting you come?” Eric grinned as he pulled his hand away. 

Dele made a squeak of a noise; this was part of their game, and Dele was definitely looking forward to tonight, although nothing was promised.

 

Finally, they reached their hotel room. 

“You’re a shit, do you know that?” Eric muttered as he pushed Dele hard against the wooden door. 

“I…don’t...I don’t know what you mean,” Dele mumbled as Eric slotted his knee between Dele’s legs. 

He pressed his leg into Dele’s crotch, his bitten red lips claiming the shorter man’s in a dizzying kiss. The younger man rutted himself against the leg, trying to find some sort of release. All of the teasing on the bus and at dinner had left Dele so close to orgasm; the temptation to go and finish himself off in the bathroom had been strong, but Dele had stopped himself. 

“I know what you were thinking, I can read you like a book,” Eric whispered before he worked his hand over Dele’s bulge, his mouth leaving marks all around his neck and exposed collar bone. 

“Eric, please,” Dele begged. 

He moved his hand to cover Eric’s, applying more pressure to his hardened length. Eric chuckled before he pulled his hand away, using it to cup Dele’s beautiful face, taking in his swollen lips, his dark eyes glazed over with want and desire, and his cheeks tinged pink. Eric swiped his thumb over Dele’s pouted lips before he kissed him softly. The game was paused for that minute, but soon enough it resumed. 

“You scored twice today, do you know what that means?” Eric wondered as he put his palm under Dele’s shorts, cupping his balls. 

“Yes,” Dele breathed out as Eric began to softly jerk him. 

Soon his moans filled the room and Dele was so close to coming - before Eric withdrew his hand. 

“Why did you stop?” Dele demanded. 

“I said that you could come twice, I never said when.” Eric grinned devilishly before he dragged the younger man to the bed. 

“Think Poch got the message?” Dele asked as he patted the double bed. 

“Wouldn’t be hard,” Eric laughed before he pulled off Dele’s sweatpants. 

Eric pulled away for a minutes to tear off his own clothes before he went back to kissing down Dele’s hard chest. 

“Lube? Condom?” Eric wondered before he kissed the leaking head of Dele’s cock. 

The younger man fumbled around for a minute before he passed the items to his boyfriend. Eric squirmed some lube onto his fingers before rubbing some of it around Dele’s puckered entrance. The older man was dipping his fingers just past the rim before taking them out, causing Dele to grow impatient. 

“Hurry up, Dier,” Dele whined. 

“Excuse me?” Eric grinned before he sucked another mark into the soft skin around his hardness. 

Eric let out a pleasent sound when Dele cried out in pleasure as Eric massaged his sweat spot. When Dele was prepped enough, Eric rolled on the condom, lubed himself up and slowly pressed himself in. 

“Please,” Dele whined as Eric began to forcefully thrust into him, hitting his prostate dead on every time 

Eric bent down and kissed Dele quickly, thrusting harder and harder until the dark-haired man was moaning and the room was spinning. 

“So close, please.” 

“I know,” Eric whispered before he thrusted hard into the younger man. 

Dele came with a flurry of groans and moans that Eric had no problem swallowing. Eric let him settle for a minute before he snapped his hip up again. 

“Fuck,” Dele whined. 

“Feel good?” Eric smirked as he fucked himself into Dele. 

“So good,” Dele grunted as Eric reached down and began to stroke his cock. 

Soon enough Dele came with a cry, his world spinning. He didn’t even notice that Eric had come himself and was wiping the milky fluid off of Dele’s stomach with a tissue. He snuggled up to the younger man, who was breathing heavy. 

“You’re a shit, Dier,” Dele grinned. 

“You love it,” Eric smiled before he kissed him softly. 

“Yeah, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave me your prompts down below


	5. Christian Eriksen/Erik Lamela

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coco had been trying to work his charm on the Dane, who really is clueless and thinks his feelingson are unrequited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff  
> Kissing  
> Loner Harry Lane  
> Requested by liefdewint, I hope you enjoy it.

“You’re tragic,” Eric laughed as he watched Christian. 

The Danish international looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Christian feigned ignorance. 

“You’re undeniably attracted to our little Argentine,” Harry chuckled. 

“Not you too, Harry. There is nothing there,” Christian lied. 

“Excuse me, I’ve seen the way that he dances around you, he touches you a lot as well. Anyway, you three coming to my hotel room tonight? We’ve got a lovely night planned,” Dele announced as he slung his bag over his shoulder. 

“Course I’m going to come, I’m in the same room.” Eric rolled his eyes. 

“I was just checking,” Dele said with a grin before he pecked Eric on the cheek. 

Christian was moving down the aisle of the bus when he felt somebody tug him into a vacant seat. 

“Music?” Erik asked with a smirk. 

That was one of the many things they did after a game: listen to each other’s music. Christen offered a grin as he popped the bud in his ear. Christian settled down, resting his head on Erik’s shoulder, closing his eyes and listening to the music. Erik’s fingers dragged through his hair, lulling the Danish man into a light slumber. Christian woke up when Erik shook him. 

“We’re here,” the Argentine whispered, his lips close to Christian’s ear. 

Chris managed to repress the shiver that ran through his veins. Erik’s fingers were still knotted in his hair. Chris gave him a smile. 

“Thanks, Coco; you’re coming tonight, aren’t you?” Christian wondered as he cracked his neck. 

“Yeah,” Erik nodded, a warm tint painting his cheeks at the nickname. 

That night, Dele, Eric, Erik, Chris and Harry were all scattered around the hotel room. Dele was wrapped around Eric, and Christian was getting his shoulders rubbed by the Arginine. Harry was sitting all on his own. 

“Truth or dare, Coco?” Harry smirked. 

“Truth.” 

“Do you like anybody?” Dele and Eric suppressed a laugh; they knew what was going on here. 

“Yeah,” Coco frowned. 

Christian felt his heart stop; did this mean there wasn’t a chance between the two of them? Erik’s fingers dug into the sore muscle.

“What are we, Harry? Teenage girls?” Christian wondered. 

“No, just really bored,” Eric laughed. 

“Anyway, Christian, truth or dare?” Dele grinned. 

“Dare.” 

“Send a text to the person you like.” 

“Dele,” Christian whined. 

Nonetheless, the Dane pulled out his phone, tapped out a message and sent it. Erik felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. The Argentine smirked before he put his lips close to Christian’s ear, just breathing in and out. They stayed like that for a while, all of them laughing and joking. Every time Coco spoke, his lips were moving closer to Christian’s ear and then to his neck. The Argentine’s fingers continued to work into the muscles, his nails raking against the soft skin. 

“Alright, get out, all of you.” Eric grinned as he curled against his pillow, also known as Dele. 

“Okay, good-bye,” Harry mumbled as he sought the closest exit. 

Erik and Christian followed behind him before going into the room the two were sharing. Erik was sitting on his bed, staring at his phone, when Christian walked out of the shower, shorts slung low on his hips. 

“Did you really mean it?” Christian knew exactly what Coco was referring to. 

“Obviously, Co. I don’t randomly text people ‘Hey, I really like you and would like to take you out’ - what do you take me for?” Chris laughed as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

“All this time, I’ve been trying to seduce you with my Argentinian charm, and I thought you didn’t feel the same way.” Erik sounded outraged. 

“And I spent all this time thinking that I’d never have a chance with you.” 

“Well, you’re wrong there,” Erik grinned before he kissed Christian quickly. 

“Longer,” Chris whined as he leaned back in and pecked all along Coco’s face. 

“Sí, idiota.” 

“Don’t use Spanish, I don’t know Spanish.” Christian complained. 

“It means yes idiot.” Although Erik knew there was no need for the explanation as they fell to their sides, kissing each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I take prompts on board.


	6. Sergio Ramos/ Gerard Pique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nando causes some a hit between the pair

“How is this my fault, Sergio?” Gerard shouted. 

What the two of them were fighting over confused the taller man beyond belief. One minute, everything was fine, and then, when Sergio waked into the room, all hell broke loose. 

“Everything is your fucking fault, Geri. You told me that you loved me, and then I find out that you’ve been doing this?” Sergio sounded crushed. 

“What have I been doing?” Gerard questioned before Sergio threw his phone at the younger man. 

Gerard looked at the pictures, more like screenshots, that Sergio had been sent. The taller man could tell that messages had been deleted to make it look like a different conversation altogether. Gerard dropped the phone on the sofa as he moved closer to the older man. He tried to lay a hand on Sergio’s shoulder, but the Madrid player shied away. 

“Explain,” he demanded. 

“I don’t know, Serg, it’s not what it looks like,” Geri muttered as he began to back Sergio into a the wall. 

That was the worst thing Gerard could do; Sergio was like a lion when it came to this. He snarled. 

“No, it just looks like you’ve been fucking him for the past few months, well?” Sergio spat. 

“Sergio, it’s not what it looks like. I promise, you know I’m telling the truth.” Gerard frowned. 

The taller man tried to entwine their fingers, but Sergio yanked his hand away before breaking away, grabbing his phone and leaving. Geri let out a frustrated growl before he sat back on the sofa, reading through the edited conversation that might have just ended his relationship. That being said, the two of them were more alike then either cared to admit. Sergio, however, had a temperature that would rival any bull. Something inside of Gerard snapped, and he called the person he really wanted to punch. 

“You spiteful vindictive bastard!” Geri shouted. 

“What have I done?” Fernando questioned, his voice patronising. 

“You know exactly what you did, you little rat. I will break your legs in February, do you understand me? That is, if you make it off the bench,” Geri added. 

“Fuck you Pique,” Nando grunted before he hung up the phone. 

Gerard dropped his phone, sank further into the sofa and closed his eyes. He would have to leave Sergio for at least an hour because a hurt Sergio Ramos is like a lion that had spent his entire life in a cage. Geri hoped that Sergio would come home and they would sort this out, but for the time being, Gerard let sleep take him. 

When Sergio walked into the house after cooling off, he couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips when he saw Gerard, with his lips parted softly, twitching as he clutched the pillow. As Sergio moved closer, he heard what Geri was mumbling. 

“Love you, Serg, so much.” 

Sergio’s heart shattered at those words. They had never said it to each other, even though they did truly love each other. Sergio placed a small kiss to the corner of Geri’s mouth, and the centreback woke up. He rubbed their noses together before he kissed Sergio properly. 

“I called Iker and he called Nando; he gave him an earful, too. I’m sorry,” Sergio whined. 

“I know. Why don’t we just forget about Nando and his shit-stirring?” Gerard grinned as Sergio dropped his head onto the taller man’s shoulder. 

“I love you,” Sergio smiled. 

Geri couldn’t stop the large grin that took over. His bright blue eyes shone brightly and he kissed Sergio, putting every emotion he had into the kiss. 

“Te amo, campeón.” 

And in that moment, Sergio felt like he was Gerard’s champion, and that was worth more than anything.


	7. Davide Calabria/ Manuel Locatelli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff featuring our Milan boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by user

“You said that you liked it,” Davi pouted as he played with his shorter hair. 

“I did, but it’s not the same anymore. I can’t get my fingers through it fully.” Manuel frowned as he demonstrated. 

“Ow!” Davi laughed before he settled his head underneath Manuel’s chin. 

“You act like I ripped out a chunk of it; I merely demonstrated that it is not as long or as curly as it was. Why did you cut it?” Manuel whined. 

“Because…I, I dunno - I wanted a change.” 

“I suppose I can forgive you, if you make me biscotti,” Manuel smirked. 

“I suppose I will; if you don’t let me go back to sleep afterwards, I won’t make them.” 

Manuel chuckled before he kissed the curly hair as they both settled down to watch their TV show. 

“Please do not get salmonella,” Davi muttered when he caught Manuel eating the dough. 

“I’ve never gotten it before,” Manuel grinned as he continued to eat it. 

“You’re hopeless,” Davi laughed as he put the biscotti into the oven. 

They waited around, Manuel acting like an impatient puppy looking for his dinner. Davi couldn’t resist patting him on the head. Manuel whined as he looked up, his eyes wide and his lips parted in an adorable pout. 

“Can you make them cook faster?” 

“No, Manuel, I can not make the biscotti cook faster; they’re already on their second bake, just be patient.” 

Manuel dropped his head back down and buried his nose into his phone. After a few minutes he called out to Davi. 

“I’m going for a shower,” Manuel mumbled, trying to speed up time until the biscotti were ready. 

Davi grinned; he knew how long Manuel would take in the shower, and the much-sought-after biscotti would definitely be done by then. Once the biscotti were out of the oven and cooled, Davi put them on a plate. He carried them into the bedroom, where he waited for the other man to come out of the shower. Davi was on his phone, casually nibbling on a biscuit. He only looked up when Manuel let out a sound that sounded somewhere between pure joy and utmost pain. 

“You didn’t wait - why didn’t you wait?!” 

“I got hungry. You take longer than any girl I know to get ready in the shower.” Davi smirked as he took a bite. 

“Traitor.” 

“Well, are you going to eat them or not?” Davi wondered. 

“Oh, I’m going to eat them, alright.” 

Manuel grabbed a biscuit and bit into it, moaning as the nutty taste exploded in his mouth. He reached out and petted Davi’s hair.

“Payment for the haircut is biscotti,” Manuel grinned before he kissed Davi. 

“I’m fine with that".


	8. Mattia de sciglio/ Matteo Darmian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just fluff and fun requested by a user, hope you enjoy.

“Mattia? What’s wrong?” Matteo wondered as he ran a hand over the other man’s shoulder. 

“Do you use ever just get fed up with it all? With all the lies, sometimes I don’t know what’s the truth anymore. I hate it - sometimes I wish I could hate you so I wouldn’t have to lie all the time. Then I realise, you’re what makes this shit bearable,” Mattia whimpered. Matteo knew from his voice that the younger man was crying. 

“Baby, come here to me.” Matteo frowned as he took the younger one in his arms, placing a kiss on his cheek and tasting the salt from the dried tears. 

The two of them sat like this for a while, until Matteo realised that Mattia had fallen asleep. The Manchester man kissed his head one last time before he set off and began to prepare lunch. When Mattia woke up half an hour later, he walked out into the kitchen and hugged Matteo from behind. 

“Good sleep?” Matteo wondered as he turned and embraced the other man. 

“Nice, except for the part where I woke up without my heater. Manchester is cold,” Mattia pouted. 

“Well, I know that when somebody wakes up after a nap they get very hungry, and when they get hungry they get moody,” Matteo chuckled as he kissed Mattia’s forehead. 

“I don’t get moody,” Mattia pouted. 

Matteo raised an eyebrow. “Sure you don’t.” 

“Just a little bit,” Mattia conceded before he kissed Matteo. 

“So what do you want to do this fine afternoon?” 

“You call this fine? It’s raining cats and dogs out there.” 

“English weather is not very good, you should know this by now.” Matteo grinned as he thrust a bowl of pasta into the other man’s hand. 

“Netflix? Food? Cuddles?” Mattia had a childlike grin on his face, causing Matteo to chuckle. 

“Whatever you want, love,” Matteo grinned as they moved to the sofa. 

They wrapped the thick blanket around the two of them, sitting so close that Mattia was using Matteo’s hip as a table. Instead of washing the dishes straight away, they simply deposited the bowls on the table and curled up, watching the film about crazy sheep. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Mattia whispered. 

“It’s okay, it takes its toll on the both of us. We both know how hard this is, but I couldn’t - wouldn’t - change it for the world,” Matteo answered as he ran his hand over Mattia’s arm. 

“Neither would I, but I just wish it wasn’t so complicated,” Mattia grunted. 

“I think both of us want it to be less complicated than it is. We’ll get through it; we always do, don’t we?” Matteo smiled before he leaned down and kissed Mattia. 

“You’re right.” 

“I’m always right.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“An idiot you love, I’d like to remind you,” Matteo smirked before he stole another kiss. 

“Can’t deny that, can I?” 

“I’d like to see you try.” 

The two of them spent the rest of the day wrapped around each other, watching movies on Netflix. It was days like this that neither of them would trade for the world.


	9. Jack Wilshire/Aaron Ramsey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff  
> Slight emotion hurt comfort

“Jack? Jack, what’s wrong?” Aaron asked as he checked to see what time it was: 3:43 am. 

“I’m sorry, it’s nothing. Go back to sleep, babe,” Jack mumbled. 

“Mate, it’s obviously something if you woke me up at nearly four in the morning, now tell me what’s wrong,” Aaron whispered. 

Thunder loudly rumbled overhead, but Aaron didn’t see the lightning. Then it clicked. 

“Babe, where are you?” 

“I’m outside your house,” Jack announced. 

“What the fuck? Give me a minute, I’ll let you in,” Aaron sighed as he raced out of his bed and unlocked his front door. Sure enough, a shivering and wet Jack Wilshere was soon tumbling into his arms. 

“Hi,” Jack mumbled. He was most definitely blushing. 

“Let me guess, you forgot your key?” Aaron grinned as he moved his hand through the sloppy hair. 

Jack nodded before another bout of thunder attacked, and this time the room lit up. Jack buried his head into Aaron’s neck. 

“Why don’t you go get a shower and warm up a bit - I’ll be killed if you get sick,” Aaron mumbled as he kissed the top of Jack’s head. 

“Okay,” Jack sighed, reluctant to leave Aaron. 

“I’ll be right out here, cub, you hungry?” Aaron questioned. 

“Depends…” Jack grinned as he wrapped his arms around Aaron’s waist. 

“I have stuffed crust?” 

“Sold, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Jack murmured 

 

Twenty minutes later Jack returned, his skin a dark red color. He dropped his head onto Aaron’s shoulder as he cut the pizza. No words were exchanged as they ate in front of the TV. When only the plates were left on the table, Jack crawled up until he was sitting on Aaron’s lap, the Welsh man’s chin slotting over his. 

“Did you have another dream?” Aaron whispered. 

Jack nodded before he exhaled. 

“It was so weird. You and I, we both died - painfully, I’d like to add. It was so real,” Jack whimpered. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe, I’m safe: we’re both fine. Except if Arsene finds out that we ate pizza at four in the morning,” Aaron added, lightening the mood a tiny bit. 

“Thank you, for everything,” Jack smiled before he kissed Aaron. 

“You know I will be here always,” Aaron promised before he returned the kiss.


	10. Timo Werner/ Oliver Burke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff
> 
> It just kind of came to me, if you have any request leave them below

“Your German is tragic,” Timo laughed. 

The two of them were sitting on opposite ends of the sofa, watching a movie and trying to improve Oliver’s German - and failing. 

“And you could say it any better?” Oliver asked, then it dawned on him. 

“Obviously, idiot. I’m fucking German.” Timo shook his head as he moved. 

The older player, now sitting cross-legged, pulled Oliver around to face him. 

“If you’re going to stay here, you need to try and speak some German,” Timo sighed as he gulped down his drink. 

“I can say hello and thank you,” Oliver tried.

“That’s not enough, mate.” Timo soured at the word. 

“Do not use that word, it sounds wrong,” Oliver whined. 

Timo rolled his eyes before he put one hand on his leg. 

“Repeat after me: Ich bin Oliver.” 

“But you’re not Oliver,” the Scot joked, and Timo jabbed him in the ribs. 

“Ich bin Oliver.” 

“Ich bin Oliver.” Oliver groaned. “You said this would be fun.” 

The pout was adorable, but Timo shook his head; that look was not going to win today. 

“I said I would reward you for getting something right,” Timo grinned. 

“I’m not a dog.” 

“No, you’re a cute little puppy that needs to be trained. Say, ‘How are you?’” Timo asked. 

“Wie geht’s dir?” Oliver made a face as he tried to remember it. 

“Congratulations, you shall receive your reward in a second,” Timo announced as he pulled off his tee shirt. 

“I thought I was getting a reward?” 

“This sight is reward enough, for such a simple sentence anyway,” Timo smirked. “Again.” 

Most of the afternoon was spent like this, with Timo trying to teach Oliver the basics of the language. Soon enough, though, Oliver was getting fed up with Timo’s teasing. The German might have been older, but the Scot was stronger and taller. Oliver grinned before he tugged Timo closer, closing the gap between them. 

“Schön,” Oliver grinned before he kissed the older man. 

Timo chuckled a bit before he kissed him again and again. 

“Du bist die Schöne, meine kleine Distel.” 

“What?” Oliver was completely confused. 

“Nothing,” Timo answered, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.


	11. Adam Lallana/ Jordan Henderson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this not what I had planned on writing for Kroos8, I was not in the position to write fluff. I am sharing the because I want people to know that it is okay to talk about things. Please, bare in mind that this fiction doesn't even scratch the surface of what it's like, going through depression on your own. Without my beautiful beta and friend I would never have been able to post this. So, I don't want to trigger anybody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depression  
> Hurt/comfort  
> Established relationship

“I don’t understand this,” Jordan mumbled as he dropped his phone on his stomach. 

A few minutes later his phone rang: Adam. His face lit up for a few seconds before he answered it. 

“You’re beautiful,” Adam said. 

Jordan dropped his head. Adam must have see the article. He groaned. 

“You’re perfect, Jor, don’t mind them,” Adam praised. 

“I’m not perfect, Adam; I’m not anything. Just go away from me for once. Just fuck off.” 

Jordan hung up the phone. He didn’t care. He left the phone on the sofa as he went to the kitchen, where the bottle was still open from this morning. Jordan was so fed up with everything; nothing was going right. For the little bit of vodka that was left in the bottle, Jordan spared a glass. He knocked the liquid back, liking the way it burnt down the back of his throat and settled into a molten pool in his stomach. His eyes were blurry and achingly dry, but the dryness was soon replaced by tears, lots and lost of tears. In his flurry of emotion Jordan slammed the bottle onto the marble countertop. The bottle shattered, pieces of glass becoming embedded in the marble. 

“Bastard,” Jordan grunted as he moved his bleeding hand over to the sink. 

The water stung, but Jordan didn’t care; he didn’t care about anything anymore, nothing interested him. He had pushed Adam away so many times but he kept coming back, trying to make things better. They always ended up worse. Jordan didn’t bother to pick out the splinters of glass. 

‘Let it to get infected,’ he thought. 

He moved back to the sofa, where his phone indicated five missed calls from Adam and four texts. 

From Adam: Babe? 

From Adam: Love answer me 

From Adam: Answer me Jor 

From Adam: Jordan, Jor please, I’m worried. Please baby 

Jordan didn’t know why Adam wanted anything to do with him. The soft-spoken and gentle Jordan had been replaced by a cold steel of the man he used to be. The Jordan that was head over heels for Adam was gone; this Jordan cared about nothing and nobody, not even himself. 

Jordan scrubbed a hand over his face before he dropped his head back onto the pillow, letting sleep overtake him. 

“Jordi? Jordan…” Adam frowned as the other man opened an eye. 

“What are you doing in my house?” Jordan snarled. 

Adam took a step back and only then did he see Jordan’s hand. 

“What did you do?” Adam asked calmly as he knelt down in front of Jordan. 

“None of your business.” 

“Jordan…” Adam tried. 

“Adam.” 

“Baby, please. I know you’re hurting, you can talk to me. I love you,” Adam promised. 

“Well, who says I love you?” Jordan grunted. 

Adam’s face fell, and he quickly tried to blink the tears away. Jordan regretted it instantly. 

“Ads, baby I’m sorry. You know I love you.” Jordan cried as he pulled Adam onto his lap. 

He buried his neck in the older man’s neck. 

“It’s alright, Jor. The two of us, we’ll get through this,” Adam promised as he kissed Jordan’s head. “We’ll get through this.”


	12. Shane Long/Robbie Brady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff

For Shane, time stood still. Everybody was crowding around Robbie. He was moving toward him, too, until James shook his head. Séamus pulled at his arm. Shane didn’t care: he had to see Robbie, he had to make sure that the younger man was alright. He held his stomach, while the Georgian defender was covered in blood. Shane’s heart started racing; he wanted to kneel down and just hold Robbie tight to him. Before Shane could do anything, Robbie was being stretchered off unconscious. 

Shane didn’t care about the rest of match. Most of the team could see it in him: he didn’t care, Séamus had made sure of that. Following a lot of eye contact between Shane and Martin, the coach finally replaced him. The number nine buried his head in his hands, hoping that the whistle would be blown. When it was, Shane wasted no time before he headed to the locker room. He was in the shower before half of the team were down the steps. While they were all dressing, Martin walked in. None of them felt like celebrating, not with Robbie the way he was. 

“He’s after waking up, they have him in a stable condition but they are monitoring him.” Martin frowned. 

“What hospital?” Shane wondered. 

“James,” Martin answered quickly, and Shane was up like a shot, hastily throwing things into his bag before he muttered a quick good bye to everyone.

 

He took the back way out of the Aviva and was on his way for the hospital in a matter of minutes. He cursed the traffic. 

“Come on to fuck,” he grumbled as he banged on the steering wheel. 

It was at least forty minutes before Shane got to the hospital. He walked up to the nurses station; only one woman was on. The hospital wasn’t filled with the usual drunks that it would have soon. 

“Where’s Robbie Brady?” Shane asked kindly. The young woman looked up. 

“I’m afraid I can’t give out that information, Mr. Long, you’re not family,” she answered apologetically. 

“Please, I need to see him,” Shane begged. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” 

“Alright, that man that’s lying in one of those rooms hooked up to some machine? That is my boyfriend, alright. Yes you heard me, now what room is he in?” Shane sighed. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. He’s in the room on the bottom right, he was asleep when the doctor did his rounds a few minutes ago,” the nurse explained. 

“Thank you.” Shane smiled before he headed down to the room. 

Sure enough, Robbie was hooked up to a few machines with the cannula stuck out of his hand. Shane knew how much he hated needles. He pulled the chair closer to the side of the bed, grabbed Robbie’s hand and entwined their fingers. 

“What are we going to do with you?” Shane shook his head. 

For a while the only sound in the room was the bleeping of the machines; it was lulling Shane into a soft sleep. It didn’t last when Robbie started groaning as he opened his eyes, sight blurry and painful. 

“What are you doing in here?” Robbie groaned as he tried to get up. 

“You’re as thick as two short planks, you know that?” Shane rolled his eyes as he stood up and moved closer to Robbie. 

“Jesus Shane, you’d have thought I died,” Robbie muttered into the older man’s neck. 

When Shane pulled back, Robbie noticed the tears in his dark blue eyes. Robbie grunted as he moved, his head throbbing. 

“There was so much blood.” 

“I have a cut on my head, how many scars do you have because of hurling? Now come here and give your favourite little injured Irish person a kiss.” Robbie smirked. 

“I don’t think Séamus would appreciate that.” 

“Is he injured?” 

Shane shook his head before he placed a small peck to the corner of Robbie’s mouth. The younger man whined pathetically. 

“Maybe you should go to bed,” Robbie whispered as Shane ran a hand over his exposed stomach. 

“I’d rather stay with you, babe,” Shane grinned as he kissed him property. 

“I like you.” 

“I’d fucking hope so.” 

“Actually, I think all feelings have been removed, maybe you’ll just have to make me fall in love with you again,” Robbie teased. 

“Please don’t, James is still breaking my balls over the glitter.” 

“Well, tell McClean to fuck off. I’m the only person allowed to touch you.” 

“Possessive, I never bagged you as the type.” 

“Eh, with something as wiry as you, I gotta keep a hold of it.”


	13. Hugo Lloris/ Laurent Koscielny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is for Ashkan. I hope you enjoy it

“Go away, Laur,” Hugo complained as he put the phone between his shoulder and ear. 

“Is that any way to treat your beloved?” Laurent chuckled. 

“What do you want, babe?” Hugo was in no mood for Laurent’s chirpiness. 

“Just to say that you were incredible, beautiful really. And, eh, could you take your key out of the door? Mine won’t go in,” Laurent chuckled.

Hugo rolled his dark eyes before he opened the door. 

“Sorry, I gotta go. Standing in front of me is a god.” Laurent grinned before he disconnected and slid his phone into his back pocket. 

“What do you want?” Hugo mumbled. 

He was met with a face full of Laurent as the defender lept up, causing Hugo to stumble a little bit before he evenly distributed the weight. Laurent’s head was buried in the goalkeeper’s neck, his hand spayed at the Base of his skull. 

“Can you bring me in? It’s cold,” Laurent frowned. 

Hugo complied and carried the other man over the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him. Hugo dropped Laurent on the sofa, making the other man squeal in confusion. 

“Oh please, I do that every time,” Hugo smirked as he padded back into the kitchen. 

Laurent had curled himself into a ball by the time Hugo came back. 

“Are you a hedgehog or a person?” Hugo raised an eyebrow. 

“A person,” Laurent said dumbly. 

“Why are you here?” Hugo wondered once again before he ran his fingers through Laurent’s gelled hair. 

“I was lonely and I wanted to congratulate you on your point,” Laurent smiled. 

“It’s better than nothing; you have training today?” Hugo wondered as his fingers continued to dance. 

“Nope, given the day to rest and I thought, what better way to enjoy a day than with Hugo.” Hugo swooned from the way that his name fell off of Laurent’s tongue. 

“Yeah, I’m going to bed.” Hugo smiled before he dropped his head onto the other man’s stomach. 

“Night night.” Laurent bent down to kiss the back of his head. 

While Hugo had his little snooze, Laurent watched the match recaps. Hugo had done well; sure, he had conceded twice, but they were good up at the front so it balanced out nicely. 

“Turn it off,” Hugo grumbled about half an hour later. 

“Alright.” Laurent tugged at the dark brown hair. 

“Ow, that hurt, you knob.” 

“Did you just use English slang? Please, never do it again,” Laurent begged. 

“Nah, love, I like the way you squirm.” 

“I know how to shut you up.” Laurent smirked before he turned Hugo over and attacked his mouth. 

Hugo grinned into he kiss before he dropped hIs head back down to Laurent’s stomach. 

“You’re funny,” Hugo smiled as Laurent’s fingers returned to his hair. 

“Being around you has that effect on people,” Laurent grinned down, his other hand playing with Hugo’s fingers. 

“Think about when we retire to our lovely French home.” 

“It’s in Spain, idiot.” 

“Same difference,” Hugo whined. 

“Nope, two different countries.” 

“You’d swear you were a Geography teacher.” 

Laurent rolled his eyes.   
.   
“Mon amor, you are a knob.” 

“Tu m'aimes vraiment.” Hugo laughed.


	14. Johannes Geis/ Max Meyer

It came crashing into him: the pain in his ankle, followed by the pain of the impact. Max was up and trying to work the pain out, but it was jut getting worse. Johannes was beside him in a second. 

“Where does it hurt?” Jo whispered. 

“I don’t fucking know, Geis, maybe the ankle that I’m holding,” Max grimaced as he worked through the pain. 

“You want me to carry you like my little damsel in distress?” Jo smirked. 

“No, I can walk. I wouldn’t mind if you helped me get up.” 

Joannes smiled as he extended a hand. Max took it and pulled himself up. Jo wrapped his arm around his shoulder, steadying the short man. 

“Anything I can help with?” Leon asked. 

Jo shot him a deathly look, and Max chuckled a little before he winced. 

“We’re fine,” Jo grunted as he and Max walked off. 

 

After a short examination the physio clicked his pen repeatedly. 

“You won’t be able to play in tonight’s game, but you should be good for training on Monday. Just rest and ice it.” 

“Thank you,” Max muttered over his shoulder as he hobbled out of the room. 

Max and Jo headed down to the changing rooms. Benni was waiting outside, a frown on his face. 

“You,” Benni announced, pointing to Jo. “Take him home and look after him. I’ll see you later. See you on Monday, Max.” 

With that, Benni wandered off to do whatever captains do. 

“You okay?” 

“Do I look okay? Because I don’t feel okay, idiot,” Max frowned. 

“Well, I’m going to bring you home and make sure you’re all safe and warm,” Jo grinned as he kissed the dirty blond hair. 

“Tell me why I like you?” 

“Because I make you breakfast and I cook you dinner and all of the other things we do together.” 

Max rolled his eyes as they headed out to the car; of course, the two of them had driven together this morning. 

“You were told to take me home,” Max grinned. 

“Yes, I am taking you to my home,” Jo smirked. 

On the journey back to Jo’s apartment, Max’s phone rang. 

“Yeah, Leon, I’ll be fine…Nope, on Monday…Yeah, I’ll see you then.” 

Jo narrowed his eyes. 

“Don’t go looking like that. You’d swear you’d just caught me in bed with the man.” 

“Well, that’s where he wants you,” Jo replied sharply. 

“Hey, you know you’re my stupid idiot, right?” Max grinned. 

That was the thing about Max’s smile: it was contagious. 

“I know.” 

When they got inside the apartment, Max flopped onto the sofa and curled around the furry blanket. When Jo returned a few minutes later, he found Max fast asleep. 

“We’ll play our best for you.” 

When Max woke up, it was dark. He looked at the clock and realised that he’d missed the first ten minutes of the match. Max watched the match, or the disaster, as he would call it. He knew that Jo would be annoyed when he came home, so Max decided to do something cute. 

“What are you doing?” Jo mumbled when he walked in the door. 

“I thought you could use a pick-me-up. Nutella hot chocolate?” 

“I’m keeping you around, Meyer. Missed you out on the field today.” 

“You all played your best. Although, has Leon not realised that the Oscar nominations have already gone out?” Max laughed. 

“Where did you learn how to make this?” 

“If you spend enough time around Nutella addicts, you’ll know that it goes with everything.” 

For the rest of the night, the match was on the back of their minds. They both knew that they would have to put in a lot of work if they wanted this relationship to work. They were willing to do that, one hundred percent.


	15. Kevin De Bruyne/ Eden Hazard

Kevin loved Manchester, he did, but the reality was that he hated playing against Eden, even if it was only twice a year at least. The older player knew him inside out, knew all of his tricks and skills – hell, he’d even taught him some of his tricks. So now, Kevin was delighted to be back with the national team; mainly he was glad to be back with his cuddly bundle of joy, also known as Eden Hazard. They were all in an exuberant mood after they beat Greece, and they were still on top of the table, something that at that particular moment meant the world to them all. 

“Beautiful goal, Kev,” Eden smiled as he buried his head into the tall man’s neck - then again, nearly everybody was taller than Eden. 

If it was possible, Kevin went an even brighter shade of red than he had been. However, that didn’t stop him from slipping a hand into the older man’s hair, caressing the baby curls at the nape of his neck. The others in the room were used to this sickening behaviour by now. It was seemingly impossible for Eden to go more than ten minutes without randomly hugging somebody; the recipient of the hug was usually Thorgan or Kevin, unless he was playing at Chelsea, in which case Cesar had to deal with it. The Belgians managed to get onto the bus without incident, except for the fact that Eden refused to leave Kevin’s side. 

“Can you stop bouncing?” Kevin wondered as he dropped his hand onto the older man’s knee. 

“I’m just happy: I have you with me and we won, two great things!” Eden grinned before he kissed Kevin’s cheek. 

The bus journey took around half an hour, and everybody was exhausted by the time they got back to the hotel. Of course Eden had managed to convince Thorgan to vacate their room so Kevin could come in. Once they were inside, Eden, despite his shortness and tiredness, had Kevin pinned up against the wall, his lips pressed into the younger man’s. His tongue merely darted over Kevin’s lip before he pulled back and rested his head against the other man’s chest. Kevin whispered something inaudible before he kissed the curly hair. 

“Sleep,” Eden whispered, his voice lethargic. That bust of energy had been well spent. 

“You really think the two of us are going to fit in that bed?” Kevin muttered. 

“No, make one on the floor, there’s definitely enough pillows and blankets,” Eden announced, his puppy dog eyes turned up to full. 

Kevin rolled his own eyes before he dropped another kiss to Eden’s head. The two of them set out on the acomplishable task of building a bed on the floor when there were two perfectly fine beds - but whatever Eden wanted, he usually got. 

“Comfy there?” Kevin smirked as he watched Eden sprawl out. 

“No,” Eden grunted before he pulled Kevin down by the arm. 

They both shuffled a little before they were both comfy, Eden’s head in its customary position on Kevin’s chest and the younger man’s hand trailing over Eden’s bare shoulder. 

“Has anybody ever told you that you’re needy?” Kevin wondered. 

“Yup, Cesar says it all the time. So does Thorgan.” Eden went a bright pink colour. 

“Well, I find it cute,” Kevin promised. 

“Thanks, Kev. I love you,” Eden yawned as his eyes drooped. 

“Go to sleep, Ed, I’ll see you in the morning.” Kevin pecked the side of his head as they both settled down.

 

Eden hadn’t a clue what he was listening to. 

„Halt den Mund, Thorgan – erinnerst du dich daran, als wir dich um Längen schlugen?“ Kevin grumbled.

„Ich stelle nur sicher, dass du meinen Bruder nicht auf die Schippe nimmst. Soll ich dich Kevin Hazard nennen, oder ihn Eden de Bruyne? Denn keiner von beiden klingt gut.“ Thorgan laughed. 

“Speak fucking English, it’s too early in the morning for anything else,” Eden mumbled as he buried his head into Kevin’s shoulder. 

„Du hast ihn geweckt, gut gemacht.“

“He’s not a baby, Kevin, he’s a grown man. Okay, maybe not grown,” Thorgan grinned. 

“Thor, do me a favour, will you?” Eden asked sweetly. 

“What is it?” Thorgan was ready for an outlandish request. 

“Can you stop shouting? You’re giving me a headache,” Eden pleaded. 

Kevin and Thorgan shot Eden a look before Thorgan dropped onto the bed in the middle of the floor and held his hand to Eden’s forehead. 

“Curse you and your shitty immune system,” Thorgan groaned. 

„Ich habe mich anders entschlossen, du kannst ihn wiederhaben.“ Kevin muttered quickly.

„Du hast Glück, dass ich dich mag, Kev. Abwechseln, ihn zu betreuen, und dem Trainer die Sache erklären?“ Thorgan wondered. 

„Gute Idee. Die Sache kannst du ihm erklären.“

Thorgan rolled his eyes before he departed. When Kevin glanced down, he noticed that Eden was asleep again. Good, because a sick Eden Hazard was the stuff of nightmares


	16. Max Meyer/Julian Draxler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max doesn't like flying, so flying to Azerbaijan isn't the best thing in the world. Thankfully he has Jules with him

Ah, pumpkin, what’s wrong?” Julian wondered as he pulled Max close to him - well, as close as the armrest would let him. 

“Nothing,” Max frowned before Jules kissed his hair. 

Julian had a fair idea of what was the matter. Max didn’t tend to like flights, and flying to Azerbaijan was definitely not the best thing for him. Most of the others on the plane were asleep at this point, tired from the long journey, but not Max. He didn’t dream of going to sleep when the plane was shaking from side to side with shitty turbulence. 

“I know what’s wrong. Just try to sleep for a few hours, please?” Julian kissed Max on the forehead. 

Max shook his head before he dropped it to Julian’s chest, eyes fixed to the screen in front of him. 

“How are you even watching that? You can’t hear anything,” Jules whispered before he pulled the thin black blanket closer. 

“Because it’s taking my mind off being in this thing,” Max mumbled. 

Julian repositioned both of them so both he and Max were resting against each other. The older midfielder wrapped hIs arm around the younger man’s shoulder, his fingers tightening in the warming presence. 

“Why don’t you try to sleep a little bit?” 

Max sighed before he buried his head into Julian. The older man bent down to kiss his hair. 

“Just for a while at least?” 

And Max slept, the tiredness having overtaken his fear. Julian woke him up half an hour before breakfast, much to the younger man’s displeasure. 

“We all know what you’re like when you don’t get food,” Julian grinned before he began to eat. 

Thankfully for Max, the rest of the journey passed quickly. The people - Max couldn’t for the life of him remember what they were called - had come to collect their trays. The next thing he knew, he was walking through the airport to collect their suitcases. He didn’t wander from Julian’s side - well, what would be deemed alright for two friends, but no closer. Out of nowhere, he felt an arm area around his neck; he knew from the smell who it was. 

“You alright, Max?” Leon bent down close to his ear. His eyes were darting around, looking for somebody. 

“I’m fine,” Max yawned. 

Then Jules walked over to him, sending a glare to Leon’s hand on Max with narrowed narrowed. Max shrugged out of Leon’s arm. It seemed as though international break would be the only time Max would get to spend with Jules, and he meant to spend every second with him. 

“You coming?” Julian couldn’t quite suppress the smirk. 

“Course,” Max grinned as he followed the older man. 

They had finally gotten their bags and were on the bus heading to the hotel where they would be staying. 

“You don’t have to worry, you know that, right?” Max mumbled before he pecked Julian. 

“I know, Maxsi; we’ve been doing this a long time, you know. I kinda like you, you know?” 

Max punched the older man in the shoulder before he dropped his head again. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s why you’ve stuck by all of this.” 

“By all of this, do you mean your size? Or your amazing skills?” 

“I wouldn’t call them amazing,” Max muttered into his chest. 

“Well, I would. But I might be a bit biased. You’re pretty,” Julian whispered. 

Okay, Max was definitely the colour of a tomato before he felt Julian’s lips in the back of his head.

 

The hotel was nice - it was a hotel, it wasn’t as though they were going to be living here. They’d be out longer than they’d be in. 

“So pretty,” Jules grinned as he kissed Max’s chest. 

“Can you stop calling me pretty? I’m not a puppy.” Max bit his lip. 

“Alright. You’re beautiful.” Julian grinned before he kissed Max. 

“So are you, Jules. I don’t know how anybody puts up with my moods sometimes,” Max mumbled. 

“Because I think you’re cute when you’re all angry amd puffy. Not to mentioned what you always do to your hair when you’re nervous.” Julian kissed him again. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Your idiot,” Julian smirked. 

“Yeah, my idiot.” Max rolled his eyes before he kissed Julian again.


	17. Hugo Lloris/Eric Dier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugo and Eric set after the game in Belgium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always don't forget to leave your prompts below. I'll try to get them done but give me time because school is hectic and I have major exams coming up, but I'll try my best for my readers

Eric felt the eyes on the back of his head as he got onto the bus. Yes, he realised that he had completely fucked up, and that the ball had gone through his legs because he couldn’t defend properly; yes, Dele, he realised that. He knew his best friend was angry at him; all of those easy chances he missed could have gotten them an away goal. He sighed as he felt somebody grab his hand: a hand he knew very well, Hugo. They didn’t say anything while all of the others got on the bus and the wheels started moving. Eric couldn’t shake the feeling. He could feel Hugo’s calloused fingers, such a small gesture grounding him. 

Hugo noticed the way that Eric moved into his side, the way the young man whined softly. Hugo pressed a small little kiss to his light hair. 

“You can’t, not here,” Hugo whispered. 

Eric nodded against his shoulder, letting a small sigh escape from his parted lips. Hugo kept one strong hand wrapped around Eric’s, his nose buried in the younger man’s hair, until they pulled up outside of the hotel. 

“Come on, we’re going to get you to bed,” Hugo whispered before they disembarked. 

“But I don’t want to stay with Dele, he’s mad at me,” Eric whined as he got his bag. 

“Okay, come on. We’ll go back to my room.” Hugo smiled as he felt Eric grasp at his hand in the darkness. 

Hugo rubbed his thumb over Eric’s fingers before he let go of the younger man’s hand. Eric’s eyes went wide before he gnawed at his lips. Hugo didn’t know how far he had slipped as he grabbed their bags and headed off in the direction of the elevator. 

“Why don’t you go and wait for a second? I’m just gonna talk to Harry,” Hugo mumbled. 

Eric nodded and walked over to the side of the elevator. 

“Are you okay?” Hugo asked Harry. 

“I’m fine, Hugo. Go, I think he needs you more than the rest of us,” Harry nodded over to where Dele and Eric were talking. “I’ll tell Poch something.” 

Hugo nodded before he frowned as he walked over to the two best friends, his hands tightening around the straps of the bags. Eric was backed against the wall, but there was a good bit of distance between the two of them. Eric relaxed when his eyes met Hugo’s. The goalkeeper lay a hand on Dele’s shoulder. 

“Problem?” Hugo smiled. 

“No,” Dele growled. 

“Keep it that way,” Hugo smirked. 

Dele rolled his eyes before he walked off.

Hugo pressed the elevator button and the two of them stepped inside of the empty space. Eric was leaning into him, his lips running over Hugo’s neck. The older man couldn’t repress his smile. He pulled back again before he kissed Eric properly, his tongue skimming over the younger’s lip. Eric whined pitifully before he moved to push Hugo against the mirror and pressed his knee onto the older man’s crotch. Hugo pulled his head back just enough to stare into Eric’s blue eyes. 

“Behave,” Hugo warned, his voice heavy and clipped. 

The elevator dinged before it opened, and the two of them moved to Hugo’s hotel room. Eric was trailing behind him a little bit; he wasn’t paying attention to anything, as he was too busy fiddling with his fingers. As a result, he crashed into Hugo’s chest. The older man smiled at him, and Eric could feel his head growing redder. Hugo held the door open and Eric walked though. The captain closed the door with a heavy click before he hugged Eric close to his chest. 

“You’re okay, Eric?” Hugo whispered as he unzipped his own jacket. 

Eric took a minute to reply, prompting Hugo to ask the question again. 

“I’m okay,” Eric nodded before he buried his head in Hugo’s neck. 

Hugo wrapped one hand around the base of Eric’s neck, guiding his lips to his own. Hugo took control and guided them to the large double bed in the middle.of the room. He covered Eric with his own body as he kissed him harder, turning it more into the two of them just breathing together. Before long, Eric was whining as he wrapped his legs around Hugo, giving a squeeze. 

“What was Dele saying?” Hugo wondered before he nipped at the young man’s earlobe. 

“He wanted to apologise about earlier.” Eric looked so adorable like this. 

“Good, are you okay?” 

Eric nodded, but Hugo gave him the look. Eric closed his eyes for a moment. Hugo swung his leg around and pulled Eric into his embrace; his eyes were staring deep into the blue ocean currents that moved through Eric’s eyes. 

“Come on, you can talk to me.” Hugo kissed his nose. 

“It’s my fault, I should have gotten the ball,” Eric whined. 

“No, no. Don’t even try to blame yourself for tonight. It wasn’t your fault, I know that for a fact,” Hugo promised before he pulled his top off. 

Eric absentmindedly drew patterns on the soft skin. If Hugo was saying it wasn’t his fault, then it wasn’t. Hugo didn’t lie to people, especially not to Eric. 

“Thank you,” Eric whispered before he kissed Hugo, his tongue moving into the older man’s mouth. 

Hugo moved his hands under Eric’s hoody, which definitely belonged to the French international. His fingers rested on his hips. 

“What do you need?” Hugo whispered against Eric’s dark pink lips. 

“You,” Eric breathed out. 

“Like this?” Hugo kissed his cheek. 

Eric nodded. Hugo surged up and connected their lips together, only breaking apart to tear the fabric from Eric’s beautiful body. Somehow, Hugo managed to take off all of their clothes while keeping Eric on his lap. The younger man was already rock hard against him. Hugo kissed him again as he reached into the little bag in the night stand. He pulled out the lube and condoms and slicked up two of his fingers before gently pressing them into the younger man. Eric whined as they breached the tight ring of muscle. Once he was open enough, Hugo, being the magician that he is, managed to get himself ready. He watched in amazement as Eric sank down onto him, his heels digging into Hugo’s lower back. 

“Please,” Eric whispered as he moved back and forth, ignoring the pain in his legs. 

Hugo bit at the younger man’s lip as he thrust up in time to meet Eric. Usually, this would be all about the two of them getting off together, but tonight? Tonight it was all about Eric. Hugo kissed him, swallowing down all of the Englishman’s moans and whines as he came in between their stomachs. Eric dropped his head to Hugo’s neck before he latched onto the tanned skin and sucked a mark into it. He really couldn’t see or feel anything until he felt Hugo caress at his back as he came down from his high. 

“Okay?” 

“Better results than today. I’m sorry,” Eric apologised. 

“None of it was your fault Er, I promise you that.” Hugo smiled before he wiped a tissue over their stomachs. 

Eric reached and pulled himself as close as he could. He was so tired, and his legs were starting to hurt so much. 

“Turn around,” Hugo whispered. 

Eric complied, and Hugo started working out his knots, paying special attention to the young man’s legs. He knew what Eric needed. 

“I love you,” Eric confided. 

Hugo stopped for a second before he continued, his heart swelling. 

“I love you too, Eric,” he announced before he kissed the back of his neck.


	18. Eden Hazard/Kevin De Bryune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically fluff with three adorable Belgians for my beta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave your prompts below

Eden was being more vocal then Kevin, who was the one actually playing. Eden was watching his little brother beat the crap out of Kevin, the one person that Eden couldn’t beat. Okay, he wasn’t thrashing him: it was 2-3 Manchester United vs Chelsea, because of course Eden had dictated the teams. 

“Shut up for a minute,” Kevin mumbled before he scored. 

Now, Kev wasn’t the type to celebrate a Fifa goal, especially since it wasn’t even the winner - but Eden whooped. 

“I’m your brother, you’re meant to support me,” Thorgan frowned. 

“I do, but I kinda hate United. Anyway, he scored as me - as me, Thor!...Fuck, that sounded weird.” Eden grinned as the two players made changes to their teams. 

Out of the blue, Thorgan’s phone rang. That was weird, Eden thought; Thorgan didn’t have friends. His younger brother broke into a grin before he bit his lip. Eden frowned. Then Thorgan handed him the remote and fluffed at his hair. 

“Beat the shit out of him, Kev,” Thorgan grinned before he went out to sit on the balcony of the hotel room. 

Kevin went to restart the match, but Eden held up a finger; he heard Thorgan talking - ah fuck, his brother was talking to someone. In a different language too, probably German. He and Kevin liked to do that to him - poor Eden would be left standing in the middle of the two of them, not knowing what was being said. 

“Stop being so nosey,” Kevin complained. 

“He’s my little brother, of course I want to know who called him. Tell me what he’s saying, please?” Eden smiled as he rubbed his head into Kevin’s chest. 

“I don’t know, Eden…” 

“Please?” Okay, Eden was a little shit - he knew it, and he used that to his advantage so many times. 

Kevin sighed before he kissed Eden’s curly hair. He listened into the conversation - oh, no, Eden wouldn’t like this. Kevin groaned, a telltale sign it was bad. 

“What’s wrong, what he saying?” Eden demanded. “Is he okay?” 

“He’s fine, he’s talking to his teammate.” Kevin couldn’t lie for shit; technically this wasn’t a lie, though. 

“You’re not telling me something.” Eden narrowed his eyes. 

“He’s talking to his boyfriend - just leave them, Eden,” Kevin whined. 

Eden pouted and waited for Thorgan to come back in. The second he did, Eden tackled him to the other bed. He may have been smaller, but he still had some strength. 

“You’ve been dating somebody but didn’t tell me?” Eden sounded hurt. 

“Maybe because I knew you’d react like this?” 

“Who is it?” Eden demanded. 

“Jesus, Ed, leave the poor boy alone.” Kevin shook his head again. 

“I want to talk to him, who is it?” Eden let got of his brother and shuffled into Kevin’s open arms. 

“Fine, just don’t scare Chris away. It’s been six months already,” Thorgan muttered. 

“You’re not fucking Christoph ‘I can’t remember the world cup final’ Kramer!” Kevin couldn’t suppress his laugh. 

“Hi, yeah. It’s not Thorgan. I’m the only person that can call him Thor, so get your own nickname. I’m warning you, if you hurt my brother in any way, not only will you have a very angry Belgium national team on your hands, but also a very, very protective Spanish defender,” Eden warned. “And if Kevin ever leaves Manchester, doesn’t want to go to Chelsea and decides to go back to Wolfsburg, he’ll break your legs. You’re lucky that we found out about this after the Champions League.” 

Thorgan looked horrified and quickly moved to snatch the phone away, muttering apologies in German which Kevin translated happily. Thor dropped the phone and fell back against the bed. 

“Ever keep a secret like that from me again, and I’ll break your two legs.” 

“Loud and clear, Ed. Just please, don’t break his legs, he needs those for his career,” Thorgan whined. 

“I won’t, unless he hurts you.” 

“Then we both will,” Kevin added. 

“Aww, look at you, getting so protective of my baby brother. Look at the adorable puppy,” Eden mumbled. 

“I love you, too,” Kevin retorted. 

“You two are sickening.”


	19. Philippe Coutinho/Emre Can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during the Liverpool Arsenal match

Philippe felt himself be pulled against a hard, solid chest. He sighed audibly before he braced himself for the protective act that was coming.

“Who did it?” Emre grumbled as he ran the pad of his thumb over the cut.

“Emre, I’m fine,” Philippe pouted before he hissed in pain. 

“Don’t stick your finger in it.”

“Sorry,” Emre frowned before he kissed the top of his hair.

“Are you two lovebirds done? We are trying to do something over here,” Adam called.

“You’re just angry that your injured sweetie isn’t here, Adam.” Emre made a face.

“Stop bickering,” Klopp laughed.

“Klopp? Can I break the French people’s legs? You know, for what they did to us in July?” Emre smirked.

“No,” the coach answered - with a little head nod.

“I don’t think you need to break him up, he’s already broken.” James shrugged as he tied his boots again.

“Are you sure you don’t want a plaster or stitches or anything?” Emre was fussing so much.

“I’m fine, babe,” Philippe mumbled before he kissed Emre.

Philippe watched the rest of the match from the bench after he was subbed off. They had done it - they were up in the top. Once again, he felt himself being hugged against a hard chest.

“Such a pretty face,” Emre announced as they walked out to the car.

“Thanks?”

“I’m saying, whoever it was must have been very stupid to hurt your face.”

“That’s so romantic,” Philippe grinned as he got in the car.

The car ride was filed with the usual banter, but Philippe didn’t expect to be picked up the second he stepped through the front door of his house. He scrambled to wrap his legs around Emre’s middle, just in case the German decided to drop him.

“I’m not going to drop you,” Emre whispered in his ear before he sucked a dark mark into his neck.

“Ow, that hurt,” the Brazilian whined before he claimed Emre’s lips in a bruising kiss.

“I still can’t believe somebody hurt you,” Emre whispered as he pressed a small kiss over the cut.

“Hey…” Philippe had one arm thrown around the German’s neck, and the other was brushing over his cheek

. “I’m fine - it just stings a little bit, Emre. Other than that, it might as well not even be there.”

“But the rest of your cheek is kinda blue? I, I don’t know…” Emre sighed before he dropped his head to the other man’s shoulder.

“It’s called bruising, Emre, it will go blue,” Philippe said in a ‘duh’ tone.

“I’d drop you if I didn’t love you so much,” Emre muttered.

“Ah, see? I knew you loved me. I love you, too.” Philippe grinned as he kissed Emre, sliding his tongue into the other man’s mouth.

“Why else would I put up with you? Well?” Emre whispered before he bit at his earlobe.

“Well, if you bring me up to bed, I’ll show you exactly what I can do and why you like to love me,” Philippe smirked.

“Why I like to love you. That’s just one of the reasons; I could tell you one for the rest of your life and you’d never hear the same thing again,” Emre promised.

“I know. I love you too, Emre, so much. My big protector.”


	20. Dries Mertens/ Jan Vertonghen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was requested by a reader. I hope you enjoy it, it was fun to write

Jan knew his best friend by now. The two of them were sharing a room on international break, and Jan could see how badly Dries was feeling. He and his wife were taking a break; of course it was going to be a difficult time for the poor bloke, but still. 

“Dries? You okay in there?” Jan called. 

The Napoli man had been in the shower for the last fourteen minutes and he still wasn’t out. But Jan couldn’t hear any water running. He walked over to the door and knocked on it, the slight pressure causing it to open. Dries was sitting on the floor, still fully clothed, just staring at his phone. Jan walked over and slid down beside his friend. 

“I’d ask if you’re okay, but that would be a really stupid question,” Jan whispered as he stared down at the younger man’s phone. 

“No shit, Jan. I don’t know, I just feel so lost and on my own…” Dries bit into his lips as he dropped his head to Jan’s shoulder. 

“You’re not alone, Dri. I’m here with you,” Jan promised as he kissed the side of his head. 

The shorter man shook his head before Jan stood up, pulling Dries up with him. The younger of the two took no time to wrap his legs around Jan’s middle. 

“Come on, you know that you’ll always be able to talk to me. I wouldn’t love you otherwise,” Jan whispered as he moved them both towards the beds. 

Dries curled around him, his eyes shining with the tears he had kept in for so long. 

“Let them out, Dries, it’s just me and you in here,” Jan promised as he moved his fingers though the younger man’s hair. 

Dries lay there in the taller man’s arms for what felt like hours, feeling the night’s weather change as the wind picked up outside. Jan was awake above him, scrolling on his phone. Neither of them spoke, but Dries loved just being close to Jan. He missed Jan, he loved Jan. 

“Is it my fault?” Jan wondered. 

“What? Is what your fault?” Dries’ mind wasn’t working very well lately. 

“The break - was it because of us?” 

“I don’t know, it’s been everything. She’s been snapping at me for the smallest things. If it has anything to do with you, then I’ll leave her; you’re more important,” Dries whispered. 

“Dries, you can’t just say that. You need to think with that beautiful head of yours,” Jan smirked before he kissed the younger man. 

“I mean it, though. I do love you,” Dries smiled as he moved to his side so he was facing Jan. 

The defender also shifted so they were face to face, their noses rubbing together before he pressed their lips together in a soft, reassuring kiss. 

“I love you, too, Dri. You’re like a puppy: Cute and adorable,” Jan teased. 

“Your puppy, then,” Dries replied happily before he kissed him again. 

“Go to sleep, Mertens - we have training tomorrow.” Jan pulled him close and kissed the back of his head. 

Jan wouldn’t change this for the world - he loved having Dries so close to him. The heartbreak of the real world could leave them be for a few hours.


	21. Juan Mata/Eden Hazard

Stupid business awards, why did he have to be dragged along to these? Currently, Eden was standing, with two people taking measurements of his hips and legs. 

“We have a few new items from Armani,” the grey-haired man announced as he scribbled down the notes. 

“Go and get them, then. Remember, black or navy. Long ties, that’s it,” Juan reiterated as the three other men scurried out. 

“Do I honestly have to go to this? Really, Juan?” Eden sighed as he ran his fingers along the fabric. 

Juan was taking a few steps towards him before he shucked off his own jacket, throwing it onto the white leather sofa behind them. 

“You have to, Eden. I have to show you off. Cause you’re prettier than all of that arm candy that everybody else has. Do you know why?” Juan’s voice was close to his ear, sending shivers down the younger man’s spine. 

“No.” 

“Because I love you.” His lips were on the shell of Eden’s ear. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s just because my face is natural, instead of full of plastic and cement,” Eden smirked before he wrapped his arms around Juan’s neck. 

Their lips found each other, but like every kiss, Eden didn’t submit like he did with everything else. Now, both of them were short, and they took it in stride…most of the time. 

“Precisely. Now, if you behave, I might even get you a present,” Juan whispered against his lips. 

“It’s not like I need you just for your money. In case you forgot, I have more money in the bank than you.” Eden grinned. 

“Yes, but how many awards do you have, Ed? Are you saying you don’t like it when I spoil you? Do you want me to stop?” 

“Do I look like I’m dying?” 

“No, I must be. Eden Hazard, giving up his life of luxury.” 

“Hmm, I wonder what’s taken them so long. The sooner we finish here, the sooner we can go back to bed.” 

“Well, I actually have to go to the office. Are you going to come with me?” Juan wondered as he took his seat again. 

Eden made it through the rest of the fitting and the long journey through London to get to the office. Right this minute he wanted to fall asleep - somebody had kept him awake the night before, and somebody had woken him up at eight o’clock. He followed Juan into the building, most of the workers smirking and nodding at both of them before getting back to work. 

“Where’s Fernando?” Juan questioned. 

“What can I do for you, boss?” Fernando wondered. 

“I need you to clear my schedule after the Awards show; we’ll be in Spain for two weeks,” Juan announced before he kissed Eden’s temple. 

“I’m sure that can be arranged. Anything else?” Juan definitely caught the distasteful look that was thrown at Eden. 

“That’ll be everything - for now.” Juan’s voice was as sharp as a knife as he turned. 

“He really doesn’t like me,” Eden smirked. 

“Fuck him,” Juan growled before he wrapped an arm around Eden. “You’re mine.” 

“Possessive.” 

“Only when it comes to you,” Juan promised. 

“Don’t lie - you don’t like people playing with what’s yours.” 

“Nope,” Juan grinned before he got into the car. 

“So, Spain?” 

“Yeah, Spain. You’ll love it. First you have to get through the Awards.”


	22. Harry Winks/ Vincent Janssen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by a reader

Harry scrubbed a hand over his face when he caught sight the naked back of Vincent. Would it be weird to say somebody had a beautiful back? Because Vincent did - the lines of muscle that he just wanted to trace a finger over… 

‘Stop thinking like this, Harry!’ he ordered himself. ‘This is your teammate, not just some random fuck on the street!’ 

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the man himself, who had put a shirt on; that was sad. 

“You okay, Harry? You’re a bit flushed,” Vincent smiled. 

Another thing about Vincent was that he was so caring and compassionate in the way he listened to everyone. So Harry wasn’t surprised when he felt a cool hand on the top of his head. 

“There you two are - Poch thought that you might have drowned or something. Everything okay?” Eric wondered from the doorway of the changing room. 

“He got a little flushed, but I think he just needs to drink a little bit of water,” Vincent smiled sheepishly before he bit into his lip. It wasn’t the sultry kind of biting, more like the ‘I’m nervous and scared but I’m not going to do anything’ biting of the lips. He then exited the changing room.

Harry was left staring at the floor that Vincent had vacated. He felt somebody tapping his shoulder. 

“You’re utterly hopeless, Winksy. I know that look. I’ve made that look,” Eric reminded. 

“Leave me alone, Dier. I don’t like him,” Harry sighed. 

“Yes, you do, you’ve a crush.” 

“He’s not gay.” That would end the argument, or whatever this was - or so Harry thought. 

“I thought Hugo was straight, too, and that’s turned out great. Now move it before Mauricio tries to do something weird again,” Eric shrugged. 

What the two of them didn’t know was that Vincent was outside, listening. He wondered who Harry would like - would he be able to compete with them? He wanted beautiful and bright Harry to be happy, but maybe that wouldn’t be with him? He walked quickly so as not to alert the others that he was there.

 

In the end, it all came to blows on the day of the Manchester United game. 

“So, who is it?” Vincent wondered as he threw an arm around Harry. 

“Who is who?” Harry wondered 

“Who do you like? A few weeks ago, I heard you and Eric talking. You said you liked somebody.” Vincent couldn’t stop the way his voice fell at the words. 

“You heard that?” Harry was a bright shade of red now, desperately trying to hide his face. 

“Yeah, you don’t know how long - I mean, I wanted to know if I could help?” Because that was the type of guy that Vincent was. 

Eric and Hugo were standing in the corner, watching the whole thing take place; both of them wanted to intervene, yet they were biting their tongues. 

“Oh, just spit it out already, Winksy or Janssen,” Harry Kane muttered before he dropped his head onto somebody’s shoulder. Just another couple he’d have to deal with in London. 

“What?” Harry’s jaw dropped; Vincent liked him? 

Vincent, the same Vincent that Harry had a crush on. 

“You’re cute when you blush,” said the Vincent in question. 

“Well, you’re cute all the time,” Harry retorted - not the smoothest thing to say, but it was true. 

“So, do you want to go out for dinner?” 

“Excuse me,” the ginger interrupted. “As the other Harry, I demand that you keep him safe. He’s the baby - been here your whole life, ain’t ya?” Kane smirked evilly. 

“Harry…” Winksy whined. 

Vincent just laughed before he slung an arm over the other man’s shoulder. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at nine, my house. I don’t bite, much,” Vincent whispered.


	23. Juan Mata/Eden Hazard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the same universe as the other one

“There’s so many people here, Juan,” Eden whispered as he locked their hands together. 

“I know there are, Ed. I should have realised they are giving out more awards this year, so more people, unfortunately.” The Spaniard frowned as Fernando appeared. 

Ah, yes, Lord knows what Fernando was wearing. Nearly everybody else was in black, navy or gray - not Nando. That man could never stick to the normal parameters of what was accepted in these social situations. The older man looked down at the two of them; he couldn’t really help it, they were tiny humans. The usual facade that Eden maintained was crumbling under the scrutinisation of Fernando Torres. 

“What do you need, Nando?” Juan questioned as he tightened his grip on Eden’s hand. 

“Just to give you the redrafted speech that I was just texted.” 

“The one I have is fine,” Juan disagreed. “There would have been no need to change it.” 

Fernando was still staring at Eden, whose heart was racing even more, almost as if it were the vibration of the violin strings being played in the background. 

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Eden promised before he kissed the side of Juan’s head. 

The bathroom was empty, thankfully. He loosened the tie around his neck and undid the first button before he splashed water on his face. He then looked in the mirror and nearly screamed when he saw Fernando staring back at him. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eden growled. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but I have a few wise words for you to heed, Hazard. Nobody comes between me and Juan. Just wait until he gets fed up with you and tosses you to the side like all of the other toys he’s had over the years. That’s the problem with being young and having money: you always want the best model. And when I’m around, you simply don’t cut it,” Nando spat before he walked out, leaving Eden breathing erratically. 

He stood in the bathroom for what felt like years until he finally felt somebody pull him into a tight hug, running wet lips across his forehead. 

“I need you to breathe for me, baby. In and out, one and two,” Juan repeated over and over. 

It took a few repetitions of the constant mantra, but finally Eden was breathing normally again. His eyes were bright with unshed tears. 

“No need for that now.” Juan smiled before he kissed Eden softly. 

“He said you were just going to push me to the side like everybody else. Are you?” Eden muttered into the suit jacket. 

“What?! Ed, Eden, who said that?” 

“Fernando - he said that he’s the only one that makes the cut around you.” 

“Don’t listen to that electric-blond twat. You’re my little Belgian, my Eden. You’re coming to Spain with me the day after tomorrow. You’re the person who I’m going to spend the rest of my life with, Ed, not that idiot. His job’s gone, and he can have some luck now finding a new one,” Juan promised before he kissed through the curls. 

“Are you sure?” It broke Juan’s heart to hear Eden so vulnerable; this must really be getting to him. 

“Of course, my love. Come on - me and you, we’re going out there, and we’re going to show Fernando that you’re worth fifty million of him and that he can find a new job. And my acceptance speech when I win the award.” 

“I love you, I know I don’t say it a lot -” Eden was silenced by a pair of lips over his own. 

“I know, Ed.” 

 

In the end, they had to wait until after Juan won the award to find Nando. When they did, Juan acted like nothing had happened…until they got into the car, one of the usual drivers in the front. 

“Don’t go anywhere for a minute, please,” Juan requested of the driver before turning to Fernando.

“You actually thought you could belittle Eden? Please! I’d rather have one of him than ten of you. And learn the meaning of black fucking tie,” Juan growled. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“You get out of this car, you pick up whatever shit you have in that office of yours, and whatever you don’t have gone by ten o clock tomorrow morning is getting burned. Do you understand me? Do you?” Now, it was very rare that Juan lost his temper, but when he did, he was fucking scary. 

“Yes, sir,” Fernando muttered as he clambered out of the car. 

“Where to?” the driver asked. 

“Oh, bring us home please,” Eden requested as he interlocked their fingers, pressing a kiss onto Juan’s forehead. 

“Anything for you, my love. Anything.”


	24. Hugo Lloris/Eric Dier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugo and Eric with a little Harry Winks and Dele undertone. 
> 
> If you want to see the picture I'm talking about just look up "Eric Dier pink" and you'll see it. Be prepared

“Dele, I can’t believe you’re actually making me do this,” Eric whined. 

“Hey, I could make you do it in purple. We both know you love our Hugo in blue, but blue on you isn’t humiliating. This pink is, like when you mumble in your sleep,” Delete smirked as he took the pictures. 

“I hate you. I was going to help you with your little Harry problem, but now I’m not,” Eric sulked as he ripped off the marigolds. 

“I don’t need your help with Winks. But you need my help with Hugo,” Dele teased. 

“Get out of my house.” Eric pointed to the door. 

“Oh, look, people are already retweeting!” Dele singsonged. 

“I hate and despise your existence, Dele,” Eric pouted as he fell to the sofa.

“Do you want me to help you with your French captain? Or do you want me to go spend time with Harry?” Dele’s eyes lit up. “I have an idea.” 

“No - your ideas consist of putting me in pink things.” 

“No - this time you can cuddle up to a French heater. We’ll just have to get Poch on our side, too, but he loves us. Man City game?” Dele cocked his head to the side. 

“Just don’t dress me up.” 

 

“Is that mine?” Hugo wondered. 

They were on the bus back to the hotel after the draw. Eric had been abandoned by Dele, but Hugo quickly filled that seat. 

“Probably, I don’t ever really play for France,” Eric yawned. 

“You’re missing out.” Hugo darted his eyes to Harry, who was staring at them; the striker was nodding. 

“You’re comfortable – like, you’re not bony, like Dele.” Eric dropped his head to the older man’s shoulder. 

“Thanks?” Hugo looked down at him. 

 

“Aw, fuck, Dele - I scared him away. Oh, the loving Lord, fuck…” Eric was pacing up and down the hotel room. 

“Sit down.” Dele rolled his eyes from where he was wrapped around Harry. 

“I just frightened off Hugo.”

“If the marigolds didn’t do that, Eric, you wearing his clothes won’t,” Harry smirked. 

Eric let out an indignant noise before he flopped on the spare bed. 

“I’m staying here tonight,” Eric declared. 

“No, you’re not,” Dele and Harry said at the same time. 

“Please?” Eric was using the puppy dog eyes. 

“No,” Dele mumbled shaking his head. 

“That’s your fault, Winks - your face has replaced mine. I’m hurt.” 

“Go get the French captain to kiss it better,” Harry teased. 

Eric walked out of their room and went back to his room, the one he shared with Hugo. Harry Kane was just walking out of it, a devilish smirk plastered on his face. 

“What did you do to him?” Eric narrowed his eyes. 

“I did nothing…Pinky,” Harry grinned before he patted Eric’s shoulder and shuffled past him. 

When Eric went in, Hugo was scrolling on his phone and muttering furiously in French, things that Eric knew were not nice things. 

“What did Harry say to you this time?” Eric wondered as he sat on his own bed. 

“Nothing, just wanted to talk.” 

“Harry, just coming by for casual conversation? Hugo Lloris, you can’t lie for shit.” 

“Tell me something, Eric: Do you like pink? Or, do you prefer blue? Or, better yet, dark blue? My favourite one was the purple and black,” Hugo smiled, trying not to laugh at the mortified look on Eric’s face. 

“I’m going to have to kill either Harry, Harry or Dele?” 

“All three. Though I see where the pink picture came into it,” Hugo laughed. 

“Shut up,” Eric groaned. 

“It was cute, although I would like to know how long you’ve been stealing my clothes…” Hugo raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh, this? I’ve had this…I’d rather not say, really - I don’t want to scare you off,” Eric smiled. 

“You haven’t frightened me off yet. Keep it, though.” 

“Is this the part where I wake up from my dream?” Eric bit into his lips, hoping that wasn’t the case. 

“Non, ce n'est pas un rêve,” Hugo grinned when Eric burrowed his head into the pillow. 

“We’re going to have to put a limit on how much French you speak.” 

“Pourquoi ne l'aimez-vous pas? Ne pensez-vous pas que c'est beau? Parce que vous êtes beau, Eric.”


	25. Harry Winks/Dele Alli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by user. I hope you enjoy

“Congratulations on your first goal, on your full debut, nonetheless. So very pretty - and against a London club,” Dele whispered as he hugged the shorter boy into him. 

Everybody loved Dele’s hugs, even the people that were taller than him; his arms were just like a security blanket of warmth. Harry loved those hugs. 

“Well, it wouldn’t have happened without you. I needed somebody to show me some of their tricks,” Harry whispered. 

“Alright, you two - you don’t see me hanging off of Hugo, do ya? Keep it behind closed doors,” Eric grumbled. 

“Stop being so sad about things, Dier.” Dele stuck his tongue out at his best friend. 

Eric responded by wrapping his arms around the younger man’s middle and pulling him off his feet. They might be the same height, but Eric had the advantage of a stocky build, while Dele was boney as could be. 

“Eric put me down, stop tickling me!” Dele cried as the rest of the locker room erupted into laughter. 

Eric let go of the younger man before Dele clutched at his sides. One person was laughing harder than the rest, if that was possible: Winksy. 

“You’re meant to be on my side,” Dele pouted. 

Harry shook his head before he kissed the younger man’s temple; Dele was nearly younger than everybody, but still. 

 

Later on, the two of them were curled on the sofa, sharing a bowl of popcorn while watching a random film on Netflix. They were trading lazy, soft kisses every so often, just enjoying each other’s company. 

“Dele?” Harry mumbled. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you love Eric?” Harry breathed out, one hand buried in Dele’s hair. 

“Love him? No. Have strong feelings towards him, and hate him like the annoying piece of shit that he is? Yes. This about what happened in the locker room?” Dele whispered. 

Harry nodded slightly before Dele kissed his cheek. 

“Don’t be worried - idiotic Eric has his French captain, and good luck breaking the two of them up. I have my Harry, my Winksy, who is very cute when he scores, by the way. I wished I was on the field to celebrate with you,” Dele grinned. 

“Thought we agreed to not out ourselves to the world? Because we both know what your idea of a celebration is,” Harry smirked. 

Dele shrugged before he kissed him. It was probably for the best that they didn’t have the cameras on them - that one would be hard to explain.


	26. Juan Mata/Eden Hazard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note that this is set in the other universe where they are fancy business people. Just fluff and cutesy

It was coming up to that stressful time of year focused on making sure that the business was intact before the next year. But Juan just wasn’t feeling it. He wanted to go back to Spain, back to his house - but he had a job to do here in London, a place with dreary weather. 

“What’s the Mata?” Eden cracked up at his own joke, causing Juan to grin down at him. 

Eden had come to visit him in the office and was currently sitting on the older man’s floor wading through paperwork and doing what Eden did best: making Juan smile. 

“Come here to me for a minute,” Juan grinned as he patted his suit leg. 

Eden walked over and plopped down on the Spaniard, sighing when the older man played with the baby hairs on his neck. 

“Come on, Juan, what’s wrong? You’ve been weird ever since we came back from Spain, which was like two months ago.” Eden kissed him lightly. 

“I don’t know, Ed; I guess…” 

“You miss Spain, don’t you? You want to go back there,” Eden said with a knowing smile on his face. 

“I love it out there, everything about it. The weather is better, too,” Juan whispered. 

“Then why don’t you take some time off? We could both go back to Spain for a while, no paperwork this time.” Eden shrugged casually. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Just to have me all to yourself, with nothing to come between us?” Juan whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of Eden’s ear. 

“I would love that, Juan; I’d love it almost as much as I love you.” 

“Sweet - but I can’t take time off now, Eden. Any other time? I would. But I can’t.” 

“Excuse me, Maria? Could you come in here for a minute?” Eden requested over the line. 

In a minute the young blonde woman was standing at the door. Eden had gotten off of Juan, much to the older man’s displeasure. 

“What can I do for you, sir?” 

“I need you to clear his schedule for the next month. And I want you to send all of this paperwork over to Kevin and tell him to have it done when we get back. Can you do that?”

“Eden, no.” 

“Juan, yes. Thank you, Maria. That will be all.” Eden smiled, and the blonde nodded before she left. 

“She’s my assistant - get your own,” Juan smirked. 

“Why would I need am assistant when I don’t have a company to run anymore? Thorgan does that shit now,” Eden reminded him. “You’re coming home with me now.” 

“I’m not. I’m finishing my job, then we can go and pack.” Juan was standing now, his arms stretched behind him. 

Eden couldn’t resist wrapping his arms around the Spaniard’s neck and kissing the top of his head. 

“Je t’adore, mon petit roi,” Eden whispered. 

“Te amo, mi rey,” Juan responded, his nose breathing in the earthy smell of Eden.


	27. Jan Vertonghan/Dries Mertens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during a qualifier for euro 2016 with Wales when Dries had to be taken off with a concussion. Now, I'm a wee( a lot) angry at a few of the Welsh players for what happened last Friday night. But anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave prompts below, as I said before and your probably sick of hearing, I'll get to them once I'm in better shape. 
> 
> Thanks to Eafay70 for once again being the best polisher out there 

Jan’s body was frozen as he looked to the ground, yet his arms were already motioning for the medics to come and check Dries, who wasn’t moving. He wasn’t moving?! The Welsh man that did it was receiving treatment on the side of the pitch. A broken whimper took Jan from his thoughts. The medics were already there, moving Dries onto the stretcher - at least he was awake, that was a good thing. His eyes were glassy as he was carried off. 

“He’ll be okay,” Toby smiled, clasping a hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“Win it for him?” Jan mumbled as he turned, catching a glimpse of the orange stretcher being carried off. 

“Of course we will,” Eden grinned. 

They didn’t, but they didn’t lose, either, so that was a plus. Jan was snapping at everybody who tried to keep him behind because all he wanted to do was go to the hospital and see his little bundle to make sure he was okay. 

“Vertonghen, give him our love, yeah? Not as much love as you would give him - you know what I mean,” Eden smiled. 

Jan nodded before he found a way to get to the hospital; Kevin or somebody was taking his bag back to the hotel so he wouldn’t have to worry about lugging it around the hospital with him. He walked up to reception, praying that they wouldn’t turn him away because he wasn’t family, even though he might as well be. 

“Dries Mertens? Can I see him?” Jan was fiddling with the cuff of his jacket. 

“His family said to expect you, follow me,” the nurse smiled warmly, sensing that the defender was worried. 

She led him to one of the closed rooms. Dries was propped on his back with his eyes closed. He was hooked up to various machines. 

“They’ll be around in a while to give him the results of the scans,” the nurse smiled before walking off. 

When Jan walked in, Dries peeked an eye open and grinned softly. 

“You came?” Dries sighed. 

“Course I did - I had to see how my best guy was doing, didn’t I?” Jan kissed the back of his hand once he sat down in the chair. 

“I’m your best guy? I feel so special.” 

“How do you feel?” Jan wondered, interlocking their fingers together. 

“A bit dizzy, my head hurts. I had a concussion, and they want to keep me in overnight just to monitor and check, but everything looks okay. You looked so worried on the replay - it was adorable,” Dries mumbled. 

“Of course I was worried: you weren’t moving. I didn’t know what had happened, although I think I held it together, considering that all I wanted to do was pick you up and hug you close to me,” Jan whispered, rubbing his head on the white sheet of the bed. 

“I’m fine, and you can hug me all you want tomorrow. It’s just me and you…and the rest of the team, but eh,” Dries shrugged. 

“I love you; you know that, right?” 

“Of course I do; you’re my Jan, I’m your little Belgian midget,” Dries smiled. 

Jan placed a small little kiss on the corner of his lips. They’d wait for the doctor to come - there would be only one thing getting him out of that room tonight.


	28. Gareth Bale and Eden Hazard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was requested by EdenHazard10. Considering what happened during the World cup Quali I hope you enjoy, Imy sorry it took so long to get to you.  
> Leave me more Eden if you want

They had crashed out of the Euros. It was almost as though the captain’s armband stung and burned his skin. Eden wanted the ground to swallow him whole. What had happened? They were leading, they were better, they were the best. Now look at them: scattered around the field, tears in their eyes as they lost out on another major tournament. But Eden felt this one in his heart; he didn’t know if it was bcause of the band around his arm or what, but he hated it. Yet he loved leading his country, and he wanted it to happen again - but not if it ended like this. Never again, not if it ended like this. 

“Are you alright, Kevin?” Eden wondered as he sat down beside the younger man - because that was who Eden was, caring about others above himself. 

The Welsh crowds were still screaming and roaring, but all Eden could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. 

“We'll be alright, Ed. We’ll be fine, come back stronger for the World Cup qualifiers because that’s what we do, isn’t it?” Kevin smiled before he got up, holding out a hand to help up his captain. 

“Yeah, we will, we’ll be fine,” Eden nodded, believing the words for the first time that night, as they waked to the showers. 

Of course, Eden made sure everybody else was okay before they got in the showers, yet somehow he was done before they were. He needed to get out, he couldn’t stay - his heart was pounding, he felt like he had failed. Zipping up his training jacket, he left the changing room, his bag slung over his shoulder. He was intending to go straight for the bus; instead, he found a nice, lovely corridor and he punched the wall. 

“Fuck’s sake,” he cried as he knocked his head against it. 

“Hazard?” It was a distinct voice that Eden knew: Gareth Bale. 

“Come to gloat? Cause, believe me, shitty enough as it is…” Eden answered, glancing at the taller man out of the corner of his eye. 

“No, I came to make sure you didn’t break your fingers punching a brick wall. I’m -” 

“Don’t finish that sentence. If you say what I think you’re about to say, I will actually find my boots and hit you with them,” Eden threatened. 

“Catch me,” Gareth smirked. 

“I’ll break your leg.” 

“How are the others?” Gareth wondered, picking at the skin around his nails. “Contrary to what is probably running through that head of yours, all of you played brilliantly.” 

“How do you think? They have a shitty captain and just got knocked out of the Euros. They aren’t the best,” Eden grumbled, biting at his nails. 

“One part of that is true. How are you a shitty captain? I’ve seen the way you put them above yourself once the whistle went - that’s good. It shows you care…well, it’s obvious that all of you care about each other. You’re not a bad captain, Eden; tonight was just a bad night for all of you. It happens.” 

“Remind me why we like playing football? It lures us in and breaks our hearts.” Eden shook his head. 

“Bale, I swear, if I have to untangle that hair of yours from a door again!!” Aaron shouted. 

“You should go back to your team. You won fair and square, no matter how much I hate you and your stupid dragon right now.” Eden smiled, his first true smile of the night. 

“You should celebrate, too - got further than a lot of teams, further than England.” Gareth smirked before he headed off. 

Eden stood there for a minute – well, it felt like a minute for him. Then he felt somebody tap at his shoulder. 

“Somebody has to look after the captain, don’t they?” Kevin wrapped an arm around his shoulder before Thibaut did the same. 

They would better themselves. The World Cup was around the corner, and by the power of whatever, they would be there.


	29. Jordan Henderson/James Milner

Jordan was the first one out of Maths. Thank god it was now lunch - he didn’t think he’d cope in another class without seeing James. Phillipe looked at him sideways before he realised what was happening: the other teenager was fumbling with his wrists because he was anxious. Of course their teacher had ripped into all of them. It wasn’t like they had all failed the rest or anything - the lowest grade was a C. They had important things coming up, but he didn’t see it like that. 

“Come on, Hendo; can’t have you getting all emotional in the middle of the corridor, can we?” James wrapped an arm around his boyfriend, resting his head on his shoulder. 

They sat down in the lunch hall. Really, James should be with the older students, but trying to separate him from Jordan was like mixing oil and water: it didn’t happen. 

“What happened?” the older one asked the Brazilian. 

Jordan was picking at the pasta in front of him, pushing it around the plastic containers more than anything before he gave up completely on eating. 

“Roche - he went off on one. Unsatisfactory results and all that bullshit, you know him. Correcting homework, he decided to make each and every one of us do one part of it. Jords didn’t like that,” Adam supplied, sitting beside his best friend. 

The Brazilian who was meant to answer the question was too busy with his mouth wrapped around a roll to answer, so instead he gave a thumbs up. 

“He’s actually a plonker. Maybe if he taught you instead of shouting. I remember my first year with him, didn’t learn anything. ‘I’m Mr. Roche, look at me and my shiny head that’s brighter than your future,’” James imitated. 

From the look that Philippe was making and the cough that came with it, James gathered that Roche was, indeed, standing behind him. Jordan sank down further in his seat, while James turned around with a grin on his face. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“Detention after school tomorrow. Your parents will be notified. Come with me now - detention for the rest of lunch for being in here,” he growled before he walked off. 

He stopped and turned his head when he noticed that James wasn’t following him. 

“Now, Milner!” he screeched. 

James pressed a quick kiss on Jordan’s forehead before he followed the bald knob out of the lunch hall, his bag slung on his shoulder. 

 

“You ever get in trouble for me again, and I’ll never talk to you,” Jordan muttered, too good for his own nature. “What did your mum say?” 

“She said any other teacher, I’d be grounded and not allowed to see you, but because it was for you and it was that idiot, she’s cooking me lasagne. Not her fault he hates my bloodline.” James kissed Jordan softly, wrapping their fingers together. 

“You’re a bad influence,” Jordan grinned. 

“A beautiful bad influence,” James smirked, dropping his head to his shoulder once again.


	30. Leo Messi/Kun Agüero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was requested a while ago. I hope you like it, I'm giving out about Pep

“Fucking Josep,” Kun drawled out. 

“Eh?” Leo cocked an eyebrow. 

They both had been drinking, but Kun was drinking a lot - and when Kun got drunk, he got really bitchy. 

“Babe, who’s Josep?” 

“You know, the prick. You had to deal with him for a while, and I bet he never benched you, the great Lionel Andrés Messi! Leo! My Leo!” Kun grinned. 

“Alright, Sergio, I think you’ve had enough to drink. Do you want to tell me who Josep is?” It still hadn’t clicked. 

“His head is brighter than my future under him - bringing in somebody nobody even knew existed, and he thinks he can replace me?” Kun was pouting now, his cheeks tinged a pretty pink colour. 

“You’re talking about Pep? Babe, his head isn’t as bright as your future,” Leo laughed as he tugged his fingers through the dark hair. 

“It will be if I don’t play. Jesus will be back eventually. I’m not a benchwarmer, Leo, I want to play. It’s my life,” Kun frowned. 

Leo looked down at the head resting on his lap, hating the way that Kun’s eyes were wide and unwavering. 

“We used to joke about rubbing his head, especially after the Champions League matches. You’re better than some gold medalist; who goes by the Olympics for quality?” Leo muttered. 

“Leroy doesn’t like him; he is good friends with the kid that captained Germany, and Jesus was a prick, apparently. I dunno, like, who goes around on a motor scooter? Go around on crutches like a normal person. But Pep is giving him everything that he wants, stupid bald knob,” Kun grumbled. 

“You’re weird. But Kun, don’t listen to the shitty bald man who can’t win the Champions League without me,” Leo grinned. 

“Not helping.” 

“We’ve established that he’s bald, that he can’t win anything and that he’s stupid for leaving you on the bench. So there are two things you can do: Be the best you, the poacher and striker that you are - or you let him win. One or the other.” 

Leo shook his head before he looked at the clock. It was nearly three AM, and they had training in the morning. Not the best time to get drunk, but it was Kun. 

“You need to sleep that off, Kun; forget about the bald idiot, yeah?” Leo kissed his head. 

Only then did he realise that the striker had already fallen asleep. 

“You lump.”


	31. Eden Hazard/Alexis Sanchez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by a reader, I hope you enjoy. Set after the Arsenal v Chelsea match when Eden scored that beauty

“I don’t know whether I should hate you for that goal, or if I should love you for it. I think I’ll pick the first one,” Alexis grunted. 

“We both know that you love me,” Eden grinned, kissing behind his ear. 

“Right this moment, I really don’t,” Alexis muttered. 

“C’mon, really?...You’re really mad about this, aren’t you? Shit - babe, come on, I’ll cook you dinner!” Eden promised. 

“Okay, I’ll see you at half past six. I want nice food, not burnt food, Eden,” Alexis frowned. 

“That’s why I’m cooking it. I know how to cook,” Eden replied before he kissed the older man quickly, hooking an arm around his neck. 

“You’re funny. I’ll see you later, then,” Alexis muttered before he broke away smirking. 

*** 

“I cooked for you, now you want me to do all of the washing up? Alexis, I thought you were a fair man!” Eden shook his head as the Chilean hopped onto the bench. 

“You demolished my team today - this is your way of saying sorry,” Alexis retorted. 

“Is it? I think this is more like it…” Eden smirked before he he kissed the older man hard, his tongue slipping past his lips. 

Alexis groaned and knotted his fingers in Eden’s hair - but he didn’t expect for the Belgian to slip his warm, soapy hands under the hoodie, stroking over the soft skin. The next thing the Chilean knew, he was soaking wet, covered in filthy dish water. 

“You better go get in the shower,” Eden whispered before he pressed a small kiss to the side of the shorter man’s cheek. “I’ll clean up.” 

“You caused this, puta,” Alexis ground out, not sure whether he wanted to kiss the smirk off of Eden’s face - or punch it off. 

He walked away, leaving Eden to clean up. Once he got to the shower, he turned on the water and watched the steam billowing out and filling up the room: perfect. Alexis let out a content sigh when he stepped under the hot spray. 

“Should I be angry that you got into the shower without me?” Eden cocked his head to the side as he quickly closed the door, keeping all of the steam in place. 

“I shouldn’t even let you this close to me; count yourself lucky.” Alexis shrugged. 

“So you don’t want me to do this?” Eden was dragging a thumb over Alexis’ nipple, tweaking it back and forth, a sly grin on his face. 

He moved his other hand down along that beautifully sculpted chest, the rough pads not adding nearly enough pressure as he made his way further down. Eden was against the shower wall, a hand behind his neck as his mouth was invaded, Alexis running his free hand all over his body. 

“I thought you were mad at me?” Eden smirked, his lips that sinful cherry colour. 

Alexis’ only response was dragging his hand along Eden’s cock, eliciting a groan from the Belgian. His mouth found Alexis again in a fiery kiss that would rival any other, one that they would feel for a while afterwards. Alexis kept dragging his hand back and forth on Eden’s now fully erect cock, grinning and moaning into the kiss before he felt a hand run down the small of his back. Eden left his hand there, just stroking the skin while jets of water cascaded down their bodies. 

“You know I’m not going to fuck you tonight, right?” Eden whispered breathlessly before he bit on the shell of the older man’s ear. 

“I’d like to be able to go to training. How about we use the pretty little mouth of yours? Let’s see if your bark is as good as your bite,” Alexis challenged as he rubbed his thumb over Eden’s slit, sending the Belgian over the edge. 

Eden moaned loudly before he sucked a deep dark red mark into Alexis’ neck. 

“Feel good?” 

“Better than good.” Eden grinned before he kissed Alexis, slowly moving down until he was on his knees in the shower. “The things I do for you…But really, we both know you don’t last long when my tongue goes here.” 

Eden slowly ran the tip of his tongue over the vein on the underside of the older man’s cock before he took the whole thing in his mouth, swallowing around it. Alexis moaned and groaned above him – until Eden pulled off completely. 

“What?” Alexis breathed. 

“Have to make this enjoyable.” Eden kissed and licked the tip, tasting the precome. 

“But it was very enjoyable,” Alexis whined. 

“Shush - we both know you don’t care, as long as you come anyway.” Eden was looking up through thick lashes. 

“I suppose you’re right.” Alexis couldn’t contain the moan when Eden ran the pad of his thumb over the slit. 

Eden knew how to push all of Alexis’ buttons by now. He knew exactly where to lick and suck to leave the older man a quivering mess above him. 

“Ed, Eden, please…” Alexis begged. 

Eden pulled off so fast, and was back on his feet even quicker. His hand was wrapped around Alexis, stroking and bringing him to the edge of his orgasm. 

“You didn’t win, I did - just so you know,” Eden whispered against his lips, kissing him as he brought him over that edge, swallowing down his moans. 

“You’re a prick,” Alexis grumbled. 

“That’s no way to talk now. Shush - come on, you played well. You need to rest,” Eden smiled, kissing the side of his head before turning off the water. 

The two of them curled around each other once they were dry and semi-dressed. 

“It was a beautiful goal, though,” Eden smirked. 

“I despise you.”


	32. Luke Shaw/Harry Kane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought I had a happier one to introduce you to this but I don't. Anyway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've been sitting on this for a while and I wasn't sure about it but then I said feck it and I'm just going with it. Love Luke, and Kate is the best.
> 
> As you know leave your prompts below and you'll get them eventually.

When Luke saw the tackle, he actually wanted to get sick; he was instantly reminded of his own injury by the phantom throbbing in his shin. Not Harry. He ran, moved as fast as he could and was down beside his boyfriend in a split second, not giving a fuck about the cameras. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay, love,” Luke whispered as the others came around him, looking at Harry’s leg. 

Blood was running out of the gashes and staining the white socks of his kit. 

“Fuck, this hurts,” Harry cried, the tears peaking in the sides of his eyes. 

“Luke, you need to move,” Jamie frowned as he helped the younger man up. 

For Luke, everything was spinning, his breath getting caught in his chest. He knew what a leg injury was like, he knew the pain Harry was in - Harry didn’t deserve that. Chris was beside Luke in a second, wrapping an arm around his United teammate. 

“He’ll be okay, Luke; we’ll win this for him, yeah?” Chris smiled. 

Luke walked back down the field to Joe because Joe was older and Joe would make it better. The place was still spinning. He couldn’t look back - he didn’t want to see Harry llike that, the pain. No, it made him want to get sick. 

“Luke, it’s okay…” Joe hugged him. They’d deal with the aftermath later - fuck the world. 

“I know what it’s like, he was bleeding. What if…? Joe, what…? Look what happened during the Wales and Ireland match…” Luke was breathing heavily. 

“Harry is strong, he’ll be okay. Seamus didn’t deserve that, nobody deserves that. But Harry will be fine. He’ll have you to nurse him back to health. Now, we are going to win this for him, aren’t we?” Joe nodded as he patted Luke on the shoulder. 

“Course we are,” the younger man smiled, his bright blue eyes glassy as everybody returned to their positions. 

It was easier to beat them when they were down to ten men. The end result was 3-0, but Luke didn’t care - he just wanted Harry, he just wanted to see him. They walked into the locker room. None of them really cared that they won; that had been erased when Harry had been carried off injured. 

“He’s in the hospital and they are doing tests, that’s all we know at the minute,” Gareth mumbled. 

Luke felt as though everybody was staring at him with those words. Luke didn’t say anything, instead just walking away and into the shower; he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. He was the first one on the bus. 

To Ginge: How are you? Please tell me nothing is broken. 

It was a few minutes before his phone dinged with the reply. 

From Ginge: Hey, Luke, it’s Kate. They have Harry knocked out with whatever they have him on. Mum has Ivy. Do you want me to go to the hotel and get you later? X 

Luke loved this woman. He tapped out the reply. 

To Ginge: Thanks, Kate, but if I go there they probably won’t let me in. 

From Ginge: They’ll let you in, I’ll make sure they do. Forty minutes good? 

To Ginge: Perfect, thanks, Kate - don’t suppose Brady and Wilson will be there? 

From Ginge: No, the dogs won’t be in the hospital, Luke. They said he should he awake in the next half hour, you want me to tell him you’re coming? 

To Ginge: No, I want to surprise him. 

Kate set a smiley face before the bus started to fill up. It seemed as though everybody was avoiding him, but he didn’t care. He left his earphones in as he got off the bus, then went straight to the room and threw on something a little more appropriate to wear to the hospital than what he was in right now. He was just sitting around looking at match highlights on his phone, watching the tackle again and again, until Kate texted him from her own phone. 

From Kate: I’m outside, you want to go visit your ginge or not? 

Luke didn’t text her back; he just zipped up one of Harry’s jackets and headed down to the front of the building where he spotted Kate’s car. He sent a quick text to Joe, explaining that he hadn’t been kidnapped and that he’d be back later. 

“You okay? I’ve seen the match,” Kate smiled as she drove. 

Luke didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded instead; she kept his mind occupied until they got to the hospital, something for which Luke was thankful. They walked in, straight past the nurses, who gave Luke a glance but said nothing. Harry was in the room on the very end of the corridor. The blinds and door were shut - that was almost never a good thing. 

“He was awake when I left him, but that could have changed. I’m going to see if I can find a doctor, okay?” Kate nodded before she turned and walked away. 

Harry was lying in bed, watching something on his phone. He peeked up and smiled widely. 

“Lukey!” he grinned. 

Luke wasted no time before he sat in the chair beside the older man, tears already in his eyes as he looked at the injured leg. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke apologised. 

“It’s okay, you’re still only a baby, Lukey - you’re allowed to be worried, you know what it’s like. It’s not broken, it’s more the studs that did damage than anything else. But I have to be careful for the next few weeks because of the cuts and how deep they are. But I’ll be fine, I promise,” Harry smiled before he rested his hand on Luke’s. 

“I was so scared, Harry - I thought he’d broken your leg, all I could think of was me….I, I -” Harry cut Luke off. 

“It’s okay. You had to deal with something that could have ended your career before it had properly started, Lukey; it’s okay to be scared about these things.” 

“But you didn’t look scared when you were being carried off the pitch.” 

“Probably because I didn’t know my own name. Come here to me - fuck the cameras or reporters.” Harry moved a little, making some more room on the bed. 

Luke got in beside him; thankfully, there weren’t wires or anything like that. He rested his head under Harry’s, listening to the steady beat of his heart. 

“Go to sleep, baby; everything will be fine, I promise.” Harry kissed his damp hair.


	33. Jan Vertoghen/ Dries Mertens

“I missed you,” Jan grinned before he kissed Dries, wrapping his arms around the slightly younger man. 

“I missed you, too, Jan. I love you.” Dries frowned, and instantly Jan knew something was wrong. 

“What happened?” the defender questioned. 

“Come, I need to talk to you about something. You’re not in trouble, Jan, why are you looking at me like that? Go for a walk?” Dries smiled, trying to ease his lover’s nerves - but he knew that his own voice was betraying him. 

Jan nodded and followed the short man out of the hotel room and down to an area where there was virtually nobody. Dries sat down on the grass and patted the area beside him. They had been walking for about half an hour just catching up, and they were now far enough away that they wouldn’t be disturbed. 

“What’s happening, Dries? What’s going on?” Jan whispered, staring down at his own hands that were clasped on his lap. 

“I asked Kat to marry me, and she said yes. On one condition…” Dries placed his hands over Jan’s. 

The defender looked at him and noticed the tears in his eyes - this wouldn’t be good. Jan had a feeling he knew the words before they came out. 

“She told me to stop whatever I had with you, that she wanted me to be faithful,” Dries whispered. 

It was at that particular second that Jan Vertonghen could feel his entire world fall down around him. The man he loved, the only person he had loved, was casting him aside for a woman? No, Jan would wake up now – yes, he’d wake up and be curled around Dries and would be happy…But no, that would never happen again. The tears bit at the corner of his heavenly eyes, at least that was how Dries had described them once. 

“So it was all just a lie? The three words you said to me earlier? A lie? When you knew you were going to drop this bombshell?” Jan cried. Yeah, well done, Dries, making the man you love cry. You happy? 

“No, I’m not. I love you, Jan, but she won’t say yes otherwise. I’m sorry, it’s the way it has to be. I love you and you’re my best friend,” Dries whispered before he kissed him, climbing onto his lap and wrapping both arms around his neck. 

Jan couldn’t stop himself: he kissed back. He had to - this would be the last time he would feel those soft warm lips on his, and he had to make it count. His hand tangled in the dark messy hair before his tongue slipped past Dries’ lips. When the younger man pulled back. both of them could taste the mixture of their tears in their mouths. They looked each other in the eye. 

“I’ll always love you, Jan, I’ll always be here for you. I’m sorry,” Dries kept repeating.

 

“What’s wrong with you? I thought you’d be happy, your best mate’s getting married in two days,” Toby muttered. 

Jan was sick and tired of hearing about this stupid fucking wedding. He was only going because he had to, because how do you explain that the groom’s best friend doesn’t turn up? You don’t. 

“Shut up, Toby!” Jan screeched. 

“What is your problem? You’ve been nearly killing everybody for the last two weeks! Are you worried about something? Scared that you haven’t gotten married yet? Here, drink,” Toby muttered as he poured whiskey into a tumbler. 

Jan knocked it back in one go, enjoying the burn as it pooled in the pit of his stomach. Toby sat down opposite him. 

“Talk to me, Jan, tell me what’s wrong. Please,” the defender implored of his teammate. 

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong is, I’m going to have to sit through watching the man I fucking love get married to somebody who isn’t me, Toby. How do I know that everything he’s said to me for the last three years hasn’t been lies while he went off to go fuck her back in Italy? That I’m just a bed-warmer for internationals? Well?!” Jan screamed, firing the glass into the wall and watching it smash into a thousand pieces, much like his heart. 

“Jan, Jan, Jan. Why? Why didn’t you talk to me?” Toby whispered as he moved to comfort his friend, his hand rubbing through his hair. 

“Because…I thought I didn’t need help - now look at me. He never loved me, Toby, he just used me…” Jan was crying again. 

“My granny always told me that if you fall in love with two people, go with the second, because if you truly loved the first, you wouldn’t have fallen for the second. Dries loves you with all of his heart, Jan, all of us can see it,” Toby promised. 

“Then why is he letting Kat dictate who he can fuck? She’s the one saying that he has to end things. I don’t even want to go to the wedding, Toby - she doesn’t even want me there, probably.” 

“I mean this in the nicest way to Kat, but forget that bitch. You love Dries, he loves you. Everything will be fine, Jan, I promise. Love has a funny way of working out, but it always does,” Toby vowed. 

 

Kat did look beautiful, but the intense hatred that was burning in Jan’s gut made the dress look so ugly on her. Dries was handsome as ever; the green suit was so beautiful on him. No, Jan didn’t start crying; no, Jan didn’t throw something at the bride. They were at the reception, when Jan felt somebody poke his side repeatedly. 

“Can we talk please? We can go upstairs to the suite,” Dries mumbled, and against his better judgment Jan went with him. 

“Are they not going to notice the groom missing? Will she not notice that her puppy on a leash is missing?” Jan couldn’t stop the bite in his words. 

Dries didn’t say anything as he pulled the defender out of the elevator after him. He opened the bedroom door before slamming it closed. 

“So, you’re too scared to come and talk to me now, is that it? You have to get Toby to do it for you?” Dries laughed. 

“I have no idea what he said to you, but he was there when you weren’t. He picked up the pieces that you left broken and crushed,” Jan growled. 

“Oh, what, you’re fucking him now? Didn’t take you long to get over your love, did it?” Dries asked sarcastically. 

“I’m not fucking Toby, I’m still wasting my time crying myself to sleep at night, wondering what I did to fuck this up. Wondering what I did to make you listen to every word from your precious wife. Toby told me that if you love somebody and you fall in love with a second person, then you didn’t really love the first person. So which was it, Dries? Did you not love me? Or do you not love your new wife?” With each word Jan was moving closer to Dries, causing the younger man to fall back against the wall. 

“Don’t ever say that I don’t love you. I breathe for you, I live for you,” Dries whispered, the air between the two of them becoming increasingly hot. 

Jan couldn’t stop himself: he leaned down and kissed Dries, every ounce of love and passion flowing into the kiss. The younger man moaned slightly. Their kiss became more aggressive, and bits of their suits came off in a pile. 

“Either you tell me to stop now, or I’m not going to,” Jan muttered, kissing down the side of his neck. 

“Don’t stop, please, don’t,” Dries begged. 

Jan picked him up and brought him over to the bed; he didn’t care that this would be where Dries would fuck Kat later tonight, if he could walk. Jan was kissing all around his golden torso before Dries knotted his fingers in his silky hair, fusing their lips together. 

“Are you sure, Dri?” Jan questioned, running a tongue over his bottom lip. 

“Fuck me,” the younger man breathed out. 

Jan looked at him, half-expecting him to turn to dust, or to just wake up, but he didn’t. Dries reached into the nightstand and grabbed the lube, which he handed to Jan. 

“Do you know what it’s been like? Not having you, not being able to tell you that I love you? It killed me - this can’t be the end for us, Dries, I won’t let it,” Jan growled before kissing him, swallowing his moans as he pushed a finger past his entrance. 

“It’s not, it won’t be. It can’t. It’s us, we’re us. I love you,” Dries smiled, rubbing this thumb along Jan’s cheekbone. 

“How do I know that?” Jan wondered as he spread his fingers inside of the younger man, opening him. 

“Because I love you. I was an idiot. You mean the world to me; if there was a way for me to change it, so it was you standing up there and not her, I would,” Dries whispered as Jan withdrew his fingers. 

Dries kissed him softly, more a brush of lips than anything else, as Jan lubed himself up and rolled on the condom. Then, Dries moved, his knees sliding beside Jan’s hips as he sat on his lap. 

“You broke me, and left me,” Jan whispered, his blue eyes clouding with tears as Dries sank down on him. 

“I broke myself that day. I mean it, Jan - if I could have you up there beside me, if I could have your ring on my finger, then I would, but we can’t.” Dries kissed him, the older man’s hands dragging his hips up and down. 

“I love you, but do this again and I can’t, Dri. It’s me or her.” 

“You, it’ll always be you, always,” Dries moaned as he moved against the older man’s cock. 

Really, with the pent-up emotion that both of them were feeling, it was no surprise when neither of them lasted as long as they usually would. It was probably for the best, too, since they had a wedding to go back to. Jan carefully pulled out before he looked around for anything to clean up Dries’ stomach with, eventually wiping the mess away with a piece of tissue. 

“Don’t you dare start getting dressed, you will fucking cuddle,” Dries growled. 

“We can’t. Come on, Dries, you have to get dressed. They’re going to be sending search parties for you,” Jan whispered as he pulled him close, kissing at his neck. 

“I love you, I really do. You’re mine, Jan Vertonghen.” Dries kissed him full force, slipping their fingers together. 

“You’re mine, Dries Mertens, not hers. I’ll make sure she knows that. How big of a bitch would she look if she divorced you after a few months? A very big one. I love you, forever and always.”


	34. Dries Mertens/Jan Vertonghan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know who this is for. I hope you enjoy the happier ending to this predicament

A year. Jan didn’t know if that was impressive or not. They hid it from Kat for a year, from the night of the wedding up until this point, but there was no hiding anymore. The two of them were in bed together - why wouldn’t they be in bed together? It was international break, the team knew and nobody cared. But somehow she just barged right in; where did she even get her own key?

“Dries, I need to talk - What the fuck?!” Kat screamed, her blond hair billowing around her face. 

Neither Dries nor Jan could move; they just watched as she stormed out of the room. 

“You’re finished, the both of you!” 

Dries sat up and immediately started to rub at his eyes. She wouldn’t be that cruel…? No, Kat was a nice person but now, no. Hundreds of possibilities filled his head, and the younger man felt himself being dragged against Jan’s solid chest, the older man peppering kisses onto his hairline and forehead. 

“It’ll be okay, it will,” Jan promised, interlocking their fingers. 

“I want it over and done with, I just...I can’t do it anymore, Jan. I can’t,” Dries whispered. 

“It’ll be okay, I promise. You go take a shower; I know somebody who can help you. I love you, I really do, I’ll be beside you every single step of the way.” Jan kissed him softly, nipping on his bottom lip. 

Jan watched as the younger man slipped from his embrace and walked into the bathroom, a pair of shorts hanging off his hips. When Jan went into the drawer to retrieve his phone, he saw seven missed calls: one from Eden, two from Kevin and four from Toby. 

‘Too late,’ Jan thought. 

He slid his finger on the hideous picture he had of Toby and held the phone to his ear. 

“I take it she’s seen you two?” Toby surmised. 

“Just come up here, yeah? We need your help with something,” Jan requested, his voice tired. 

“Twenty minutes good? You two better not be canoodling when I go in there,” Toby laughed. 

Jan hung up and dropped the phone onto the bed. He walked into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bath. Dries was just standing there, the white foam of the body wash falling off his body with the pressure of the water. 

“I called Toby, he’ll be here in fifteen minutes. He’ll know what to do,” Jan said over the sound of the water hitting the bottom of the tray. 

Dries was silent. Jan left the younger man to think as he made their bed and pulled on an old jumper. When Dries came out of the shower, a towel slung low around his hips, he continued to ignore Jan, choosing to pull on his clothes and sit on the bed to scroll through his phone. 

“Dri, talk to me, please,” Jan frowned as he lay on the bed beside the smaller man. 

“To do what? Hear you tell me that it’s going to be okay, when it probably won’t be? Because that sounds lovely, Jan,” Dries snapped. 

Jan resorted to unorthodox measures to get his lover to face him. He placed the phone out of his reach and caged Dries into the mattress. 

“You’re right, you’re still going to get hurt, my love. But you’ll make it out on the other side, I promise.” Jan kissed his forehead. 

“I know you will; what did I do to deserve you?” Dries mumbled into the older man’s neck. 

“You did nothing, you’re just you. That’s all I want,” Jan smiled, rubbing their noses together. 

The knocking at the front door broke them from their act. It was Toby. Jan got off of Dries and went to go open the door. Toby walked in and settled on the bed. He didn’t comment on the way that Dries immediately latched onto Jan’s lap. 

“So, Kat knows? I take it you want to talk to her and come to some sort of arrangement?” Toby asked softly. 

“I want a divorce,” Dries answered firmly. 

“That’s easier, I suppose. I know somebody - best guy there is in Belgium. I’ll give you his number. But, can I give you a piece of advice, Dries? Maybe you should call her and ask her to come here. I’ll go if you want, I’ll stay, whichever. But you need to clear the air; this could get messy,” Toby frowned. 

The winger picked his phone up and called Kat, who answered on the first ring. He put the phone against his ear. 

“Kat, come back to the hotel room. I need to talk to you, please…” Dries sighed before he dropped the phone. “She was on her way here anyway, that’s not a good sign.” 

“Remember what I said. I’ll go if you want,” Jan whispered, kissing the side of his head. 

“You’re staying, both of you are. Toby, thank you for being there when I wasn’t.” 

“I will. But do that to him again, and I’ll make sure you wind up half-pint sized,” Toby threatened as there was another knock at the door. 

Toby got up to get it, muttering a quick hello before he sat down beside Dries, leaving Kat on the other bed. 

“I wanted to apologise. I know how much you mean to each other. Look, I don’t know…I love you, for the last ten years I’ve loved you so much, and I’ve stuck by you,” Kat smiled. 

“Kat, I love you, too, but it’s a different love. Everything we talked about, I still want that to happen, but Jan? He’s seen me at my worst, helped me up at my worst and kept me standing at my best. I love him. I love the both of you, but I love him more.” Dries closed his eyes, waiting for the screaming. 

“It’s okay. I mean, with a face like that, who wouldn’t love him? I suppose I always knew, didn’t I? You’re still my best friend, Dries; we can make this work, we don’t have to do anything. We can just be Dries and Kat, can’t we?” The hopefulness in her voice was making Toby’s heart break. 

“We will.” Dries was hugging her now. 

“Come here, Vertonghen. I suppose I have to share him now. Hurt him once, and I will end your career forever, do you hear me?” Kat threatened as she wrapped an arm around him. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Eh, we have another defender in the room that loves hugs, I think he’s missing out,” Jan whispered. 

“Come on, Alderweireld; without you, I never would have spoken to her”, Dries mumbled.

It was true: the three of them had so much to work out, a hell of a lot. But Kat knew how much they loved each other, and if it was half as much as she loved Dries, then she’d make sure that Dries was happy.


	35. Kevin De Bruyne/Eden Hazard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just something cute and fluffy, my love for the Belgians is just staggering right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your requests are been taken on boardand I've had this for a long time now, I hope you enjoy it. As always feel free to leave the prompts below.

“How did you lose Eden?” Kevin rolled his eyes. 

“I didn’t lose him, he disappeared. Last time I saw him, he was walking outside to the garden thing; you know Ed doesn’t exactly like crowds,” Thorgan announced. 

“Alright, I’ll text you if I find him, okay?” Kevin muttered as he turned - but a hand on his arm stopped him. 

“Will you finally tell him that you like him?” Thorgan pleaded. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kevin mumbled as he moved past the crowds into the cold night air. 

Outside, the path was illuminated by a few lamps standing tall and by the thousands of stars in the night sky. Kevin walked the path for half an hour before he found Eden, who was sitting on a bench and watching the water show on the artifical lake. 

“You okay, Ed?” Kevin wondered. 

“I’m okay, Kev,” Eden slurred – okay, he was a bit drunk. 

“You want to go back to your hotel room?” 

“Nah, I like it here. It’s quiet. I can think for once,” Eden muttered as he dropped his head to Kevin’s shoulder. 

“Tell me what’s troubling my old captain?” Kevin whispered. 

“I dunno, you’re named after a bank,” Eden laughed. 

“I’m not named after a bank, Eden. I think you need to go to bed,” Kevin grinned. 

“Do you? Because I’m older, so I think I am the one that gets to boss you around,” Eden smirked. 

“I’m not bossing anybody around.” 

“So what if I was to do something?” 

“It depends on what it is.” 

Eden leaned forward and kissed Kevin, more of a brush of lips than anything, but he hoped Kevin understood. 

“I think I like you.” 

“Jeez, thanks Eden, you only think?” Kevin rolled his eyes. 

“Well, maybe if you kissed me again we could find out?” 

“Cheeky,” Kevin smirked before he kissed Eden fully on the lips, his hand on the back of the shorter man’s neck. 

“Yes, I fucking knew it. I fucking knew it!” Thorgan screamed. 

“Thor, shut up,” Eden groaned as he buried his head into Kevin’s shoulder. 

“Where’s my hundred, Thibaut?” Thorgan smiled. 

“I hate you and your midget brother,” the goalkeeper complained as he handed over the money. 

“You give that back to him.” Eden pointed to his brother, not looking up. 

“He won it, it’s okay. Just don’t be sickeningly sweet, please. And leave Cesar alone now,” Thibaut begged. 

“But he’ll be in Manchester,” Eden reminded the keeper. 

“Maybe you should leave him alone, Ed - don’t want somebody to get jealous, do you?” Kevin smiled before he kissed the side of his neck. 

“Never.”


	36. Toni Kroos/James Rodriguez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is two requests, Toni and James dancing get and then them having sex. Let's have some fun with this. I hope you enjoy reading this.

“How do you expect me to learn how to dance with you grinding into me like that?” Toni whined as James let go of his hand. 

“You’re actually useless: two left feet, unless you have a football at your feet.” James snorted before he wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck. “Do you want to learn or not?” 

“I do, but it’s hard to learn when you just want to rip your teacher’s clothes off. Maybe we should get Sergio to teach me?” Toni smirked. 

James made a noise in protest before he repeated the steps again, but it was no use: Toni Kroos would just never be able to dance properly. James let out a sigh before he dropped his head to the German’s shoulder. 

“One last time, please? I think I might have it.” Toni kissed the dark hair. 

James physically growled - Toni had been pretending to be bad for the last two and a half hours. Two and a half hours during which they could have been doing other things that involved their bodies. 

“Toni Kroos, did you actually lie about not being able to dance? That’s sad, even for you,” James grumbled. 

“Well, I liked having you twist those hips into me, or rub around me. An awful lot, I’d like to remind you,” Toni whispered before he kissed James, one hand gathering the younger man’s wrists and pinning them above his head. 

“But think of all of the time we could have been fucking…” James breathed through clenched teeth as Toni’s skillful fingers ran over the soft fabric. 

“We could do that now, though: Think of it, Sergio won’t give out about my dancing skills, anyway,” Toni smirked before he he kissed down the younger man’s neck. 

“Stop talking about Sergio,” James grumbled. 

“Is somebody jealous? Hammie, you know you’re the only person I want begging for my cock, what do you take me for? I don’t know, do you even deserve to be fucked in the bed? I think you like it right here, against the wall, where our teammates are?” Toni whispered before he tongued at James’s pulse point. 

“Toni, fuck. Please…” James moved their clothed groins together, looking for some sort of friction. 

“I wonder how open you are? I know you enjoyed our little adventure in the bath this morning. I wonder if I could just -” 

James moaned before Toni sealed his lips over his younger lover’s, his hand moving away from his crotch. 

“Turn around, James, hands on the wall and I’ll be back in a minute,” Toni whispered in his ear before he turned on his heel. 

The older man returned a few minutes later, the bottle of lube and a condom in his hand. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread on his lips at the sight of James flush against the wall as Toni moved closer to him, pressing his hardness into him. 

“Toni, please…” James whined. 

“Be patient,” Toni chided before he stripped the Colombian. “So pretty…” 

James couldn’t stop his moan when he heard the cap of the lubricant popping open, or the noise that escaped him when two cold fingers were pressed into his loose entrance. He really didn’t need prep at all. That didn’t stop Toni from spreading his fingers inside of the younger man, his lips hovering over his ear. 

“Fuck, fuck. Tone, Toni, please. I need you,” James begged, turning his head to catch the corner of the older man’s lips. 

Toni withdrew his fingers before he lubed himself up, rolled on the condom and pushed himself into James, a loud grunt escaping his lips at how hot James felt around him. 

“Always feel so good, Hammie…” Toni continued to thrust in and out of him, causing the younger man to push himself back in perfect sync. 

Honestly, with all of the thoughts running through James’s head, with the way it felt like every inch of his skin was being covered by Toni’s hot wet mouth, it wasn’t long before he was on the edge, dancing so close. The pleas fell from his mouth, his neglected cock throbbing between his legs until Toni jerked him to his release, still seeking his own. 

James let out a breathy moan before he felt strong arms circle around his waist; his legs felt like jelly and he didn’t trust them. 

“Sofa,” Toni whispered softly before he pressed a sweet kiss to the side of his neck. 

Once James was cleaned up a little bit, Toni pulled him into his arms and nuzzled at his neck. 

“Love you, mi amor,” Toni promised as he petted his hair. 

“I love you, too. Now rest - we need you in top shape for Bayern” James yawned. 

“More like you just want to sleep,” Toni huffed. 

James shrugged before he pressed a small kiss to the older man’s lips. He smiled brightly when he pulled away and settled his head on Toni. Closing his eyes, James looked forward to April - it was always fun.


	37. Toby Alderweireld/Vincent Janssen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a lot longer than I thought it would be, but I did enjoy it a lot. So thank you OllyOpossum.
> 
> Thank you once again to Eafay70 for betaing this work and putting up with my weirdness

In the beginning, Vincent wasn’t sure about anything. He had just arrived at a new club, a club that had been together, teammates that had been together not only on this level but also on international level. Vincent felt as though he was encroaching on something special when he arrived, but the warm smiles from everybody quickly made those thoughts move to the back of his mind. His English was improving, but Toby was a godsend, translating everything into rapid and beautiful-sounding Dutch so that the striker would have an easier time of it. Toby had a heart of gold. 

Vincent quickly learned about all of the various relationships going on around him - how could he not? He would never forget the image of his new captain kissing the breath out of Eric; the mere thought of it sent shivers down the young man’s spine. 

“Don’t worry, wait until Harry and Dele start,” Toby muttered as they walked out to the training pitch. 

Vincent raised an eyebrow before Mousa appeared, dropping his head to the defender’s shoulder. 

“They just can’t keep their hands off each other. It’s horrible - I need bleach!” Mousa complained as he pointed to where the two English youngsters were wrapped around each other. 

“Is it too late for you to go back? ‘Cause the people here are crazy.” Jan nodded in agreement before he sniggered: Poch was going over to Dele and Harry. 

The whole incident gave Vincent a weird feeling, though not as weird as when Toby started calling him ‘Vinny’: that just made him feel warm and fuzzy…and fucking weird. But it was definitely hard, adjusting was hard. So here he was, sitting alongside Toby at one in the morning because the defender decided that he didn’t want to leave him before the FA Cup match. 

“What’s wrong, Vinny? You haven’t been your usual self,” Toby frowned as he shuffled closer to the younger man. 

“It’s nothing. Forget about it,” Vincent shrugged. 

“Vincent, come on. Talk to me, please? Please?” 

“You can stay here tonight. It’s late. I’m going to bed,” Vincent muttered before he went to stand up. 

A warm hand on his pulled him back down, until Vincent was staring at Toby. 

“What’s wrong? Please, Vincent, you know you can talk to me…” Toby was smiling so brightly. 

“There’s noting to talk about. It’s fine, Toby. G’night,” Vincent lied before he left the living room. 

It wasn’t the first time that Toby had slept in his house, but it probably would be the last. 

 

Nobody really expected that scoreline: you never really expect 6-0, do you? But the win had been marred by the fact that Harry had been taken off so early in the match. 

“Can I come round to yours later? Around seven? I’ll bring dinner,” Toby suggested. 

“If you bring food, I’m all for it,” Vincent shrugged. It seemed like it was only the two of them in there, but with this team…

“Good, I’ll see you then. Don’t fall asleep or anything,” Toby teased, his hand curling around the younger man’s neck. 

Vincent felt his heart beat faster before Toby dropped his hand. 

“Tonight, Vinny,” Toby grinned before he himself departed, leaving only Vincent in the dressing room.

 

The striker paced up and down the living room, his fingers lightly touching where Toby’s had pressed into him. Suddenly it all made sense - but at the same time it didn’t. His brain was mush. Today he’d scored his first goal for Spurs that wasn’t a penalty, and now his brain was telling him that Toby – tall, lovely, adorable, funny Toby – liked him? 

‘Why else would he be bringing dinner to your house?’ Vincent didn’t really have an answer to that question, and even if he did, he didn’t really have time to answer because the doorbell rang. 7:00 on the dot.

“Hey, Vinny, hope you’re hungry because I’m starving,” Toby seemed almost nervous about this whole thing. 

‘Impossible, Toby doesn’t get nervous.’ 

They ate with animated conversation. Toby was definitely acting strange, so Vincent didn’t find it strange when he tapped his shoulder randomly. 

“I know what’s wrong, by the way.” 

“Oh, do you?” Play it cool, Vincent. 

“Yeah. You’re just taking time to adjust, that’s all. You scored a good goal today,” Toby smiled. 

For some reason, Toby’s praise meant more than anybody else’s. Vincent shrugged. For a while, neither Vincent nor Toby said anything. 

“Can I ask you something?” Toby said quickly. 

“Depends - those types of questions never go very well.” 

“If I was to theoretically like somebody on a team I play for, but I’m not entirely sure how they feel about me, what should I do? I mean, my feelings are dead certain for this person - I think they have been since we first met, actually,” Toby rushed out, anxiously playing with his fingers. 

“Well, I’d say, just go for it? I mean, I’d be able to help if I could figure out my own situation…” Shit, that last part wasn’t meant to come out! 

“You like somebody?” Toby couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Who?” 

“A six-foot-two defender? He has really nice hair and eyes…” Vincent closed his eyes, waiting for the shitstorm. 

“Do you want to be murdered by a midget? Because if you so much as look at Jan in that way, Dries Mertens will gut you,” Toby noted. 

“You know, I never repaid you for helping me at the start of the season,” Vincent smirked. “You’re incredibly dense.” 

The younger man leaned forward and connected their lips, his hand curling around Toby’s neck to bring them closer. 

“Me?” Toby asked. 

“You. This is the cliché part where you don’t respond and just kiss me back,” Vincent replied. 

“Honestly, I’m fine with that,” Toby grinned before he kissed him properly, his tongue slipping along his bottom lip.


	38. Eric Dier/Toby Alderweireld

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is once again for the person who loves Tottenham or Belgium, and the person who wanted to see it. Thank you. Plus I wanted an excuse to wrote porn
> 
> Thank you to Eafay70 for being the best polisher out there.

“Eric?” Toby whispered, his arm wrapping around the younger man’s shoulder. 

“Don’t touch me, Toby, don’t. Just fuck off,” Eric growled as he moved into the changing rooms, leaving his lover confused and angry. 

“I’m never going to be able to visit my grandmother again,” Jan complained, shaking his head, the exhaustion evident in his voice. 

“So you want your grandmother to visit your house? It’s bleak, Vertonghen,” Toby smirked, trying to hide the annoyance from the man that knew him so well. 

“Eric?” Jan surmised. 

Toby nodded, and the elder laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“He’s going to need you tonight. Go - he’s more important than media or whatever,” Jan shrugged.

When Toby got out of the shower, really just a quick thing to make the drive home bearable, he noticed that Eric was sitting on the bench and scrolling through his phone. Of course he would be: Toby had the keys, so Eric couldn’t drive Toby’s car. He was stuck. 

“About time,” Eric growled. 

Toby bit his lips, fighting back the retort as Eric stood up and walked in front of him. Eric didn’t say a word as they moved down one of the corridors of the stadium. 

“What is your fucking problem?!” Toby seethed. 

“Well maybe if you sped up a bit, we could have been long gone out of here. I could have been long gone out of here!” Eric retorted, getting into Toby’s face. 

“I was five minutes. We can’t all be you, a temperamental brat that gives out when things don’t go their own way, Eric. Have you even spoken to your best friend to see how he is after getting a red card? Didn’t think so,” Toby muttered. 

“Fuck you,” Eric snarled. 

Toby had him against the wall in a second, one hand gripping into his hip and the other one slowly moving over his fingers. 

“Did you forget how this works, Eric? You don’t get to be disrespectful and get away with it,” Toby whispered against his lips before he kissed him hard, his tongue moving passed Eric’s lips. 

Of course the younger man fought back into the kiss, their tongues wrestling until Toby decided that Eric had had enough to remind him who really was in charge. His thumb was still moving over Eric’s fingers, a lifeline to keep Eric from falling too far too fast. Eric’s lips were a dark shade of pink as his tongue moved over them, tasting Toby.

“I just, I want to go home,” Eric grumbled, obviously still angry about something. 

Toby shook his head before he followed the younger man out to the car. Eric deposited his bag in the boot before he sat in the passenger seat, staring at Toby in the mirror. Once Toby got in the car, he turned to Eric. 

“I’m not starting this car until you speak to me, Eric. Stop bottling it up, and tell me what’s wrong with you.” Toby frowned. 

“Well, I guess you won’t be getting home tonight. There is nothing wrong with me, Toby,” Eric growled, snatching his hand away from Toby. 

“It’s not your fucking fault we lost, Eric. Deal with it. It happens. You got an assist - that’s something to be proud of.” Toby turned the key. 

“Because that goal really did so much? Because me getting a yellow really helped matters. Shit defending from a shit defender,” Eric muttered. 

“Don’t, no. I will not listen to this self-deprecating bullshit, Dier. You’re a fantastic footballer, but let’s face it: all of us lost it tonight. That’s nothing to be ashamed about. Look forward to the rest of the competitions.” Toby smiled softly; he hated that Eric was hard on himself when it wasn’t his fault. 

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to cope with it. I shouldn’t have been a brat,” Eric apologised, leaning his head against the window. 

“You’re still going to be punished, Eric; you said some very rude things,” Toby said lowly. 

The car ride was tense. Eric hated it when Toby punished him, but he deserved it. He did.

When Toby pulled up outside the house, he turned to Eric. 

“Up on the bed, naked, on all fours. Don’t touch yourself, or the punishment will be worse.” Toby’s voice was solid and hard. 

Eric nodded before he got out of the car hastily. Toby took his sweet, sweet time getting their bags from the boot of the car, bringing them inside and leaving them by the door. The older man walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for afterwards, because Eric would definitely need it. Once he reached their bedroom, he clicked his lips. 

“Eric, what did I tell you not to do?” Toby rolled his eyes, watching Eric’s hand fall away from his cock. 

Eric was staring at him, his blue eyes wide as Toby left the bottle on the dresser. 

“I’m sorry. I, I didn’t…” Eric whispered. 

“Eric, don’t try to lie your way out of it now. On all fours, now,” Toby muttered. 

As Eric listened to him for the first time that night, Toby went in search of something. Once he found it, he sat on the bed, running a hand down Eric’s smooth back. 

“What’s that?” Eric questioned, his eyes darting to the little egg-shaped thing that Toby had in his hand. 

“Your punishment.” 

“I thought you -?” 

“You like that too much, though…Well, you’ll enjoy this, too. You enjoy everything, don’t you?” Toby whispered before he placed a kiss on the side of his lover’s head. 

Eric let out a groan and closed his eyes. He heard the cap of the lube being opened before Toby pressed a finger into him and moved it around slowly, then added a second finger to spread him open just enough to put the vibrator in. 

“You’re coming into the bathroom with me,” Toby smirked, pulling Eric up. 

“I have something in my ass - I’m not getting in the shower,” Eric muttered. 

“It’s waterproof,” Toby retorted before he used the little remote to turn it to its middle setting. 

If Toby hadn’t anticipated the response, Eric would be flat on his face; instead, his head was buried in the older man’s neck, and soft moans were leaving his mouth. It felt good, so good. 

“Anyway, you’re not getting into the shower; I just need to be able to hear you if you need to stop,” Toby whispered before Eric stood on his own feet. 

Eric tried to sit on the toilet seat lid, but he couldn’t handle the intense vibration inside of him. Then Toby turned it up to its highest setting. A loud moan filled the bathroom before Toby stepped under the spray of hot water. Eric was left standing, gripping onto the sink, his cock hard and heavy between his legs. He wanted to touch it so bad, but Toby had told him that he couldn’t, and he wouldn’t have the older man even more mad at him. He couldn’t stop the moans and the whines that were escaping his lips. 

Now, Toby was usually very quick in the shower, but he must have decided to just torture Eric now. The vibrations had been turned down to their lowest, but the aching in Eric’s cock didn’t go away; if anything, it got worse with the pulsation. 

“Toby, Toby…” Eric cried, a few tears slipping out of the corners of his eyes. 

Toby had just turned the water off and was running a towel through his hair. He turned to Eric, a frown firmly on his face. 

“Please, Toby, take it out, no more! I can’t, please!” Eric begged. 

“Sh, you’re doing so well. Just a few more minutes - colour?” Toby kissed the side of his forehead. 

It took Eric a minute to reply, but the ‘green’ came out, more of a whisper than anything else. 

“That’s my boy. Come on, let’s go back to bed,” Toby smiled. 

He had to essentially walk Eric back to their bed; the elder man could see his legs shaking as he turned off the vibrator and took it out gently. 

“You did so good, Eric – you make me so proud…” Toby kissed him as he took the younger man’s cock in his hand, jerking it until he came. 

Eric’s usually pale skin was now blushing dark pink. His eyes were glassy as he stared at Toby, who placed a solitary kiss to the head of his cock, causing Eric to whine. His whole body tingled, but he still didn’t feel finished: He didn’t have Toby in him, and that wouldn’t do. No, sir, that wouldn’t work at all. 

“Toby, please, fuck. Fuck me,” Eric begged. 

“Are you sure, Eric?” Toby wondered, kissing up the younger man’s body before he got to his lips. 

“Positive, I want to feel you in me.” Eric’s voice was cracking. 

“Eric, you just had a vibrator in there for half an hour. Are you sure? Colour, please,” Toby whispered, kissing over his cheekbone. 

“Green, fucking green. If it hurts too much, or I want you to stop, Ajax. I haven’t slipped that far, Tobe, I know,” Eric kissed him, reassuring the older man. 

Toby jerked his cock a few times before he got the condom and some more lube from the bedside table. He slathered himself in it before he slowly pushed into Eric, moving in inch by inch. Toby’s hand was on Eric’s cock, lightly squeezing at the base of it. 

“You can’t come until I say so,” Toby whispered, rocking his hips into the younger man. 

Eric’s fingernails scratched down the length of his back, his lips connecting with the older man’s neck, sucking a mark as he felt an orgasm build up - but Toby’s fingers on his cock stopped the release. Toby kept doing this until the world was spinning. Eric was moaning gibberish before he groaned when Toby’s cock ran over his prostate. Eric didn’t realise he was crying again until he felt the tears slip down his face. 

“Eric, baby. Colour,” Toby demanded as he stopped moving. 

“Green, keep fucking going, please. Tobe, please…” Eric was so close, but he couldn’t do it anymore - he had played nearly the full 90, his legs were cramping and his head was spinning. 

“It’s okay…Can you come like this? Of course you can. Come, Eric - that’s it. You’re my Eric; I’m so proud of you. I love you; you’re beautiful and perfect in every way.” Toby smiled before he took his hand away, continuing to fuck into Eric until he came with a silent scream. 

Eric’s body was on fire, his head spinning. He whined at the loss of Toby’s cock. The older man chuckled before he used a baby wipe to clean up the come on his chest before he discarded of both that and the condom. Toby grabbed the bottle of water while he was up, bringing it with him as he sat on the bed. He gently pulled Eric into his arms, knowing how sensitive his lover was. Toby unscrewed the lid before he held it to Eric’s bitten lips, and the younger man took a few gulps. 

“So good, my beautiful Eric. How do you feel?” Toby asked after a while, giving Eric time to come back to him. 

The younger man didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he just curled in closer to Toby, who kissed his forehead. 

“Did you truly mean everything? Do I really make you proud?” Eric wondered. 

“So proud. I love you,” Toby promised as he ran a thumb over his lover’s shoulder. 

“I love you, too,” Eric smiled, lacing their fingers together before he closed his eyes.


	39. Robert Lewandowski/Wojciech Szczęsny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really I don't even know what this is, but Woj is one cocky prick in this.  
> Plus Łukasz and Kuba are just being teddy bears together.

He’s annoyed with me,” Łukasz sighed as he dropped onto the bed. 

“Excuse me, this is our alone time. Run along.” Woj rolled his eyes. 

“Come on, he’s not angry at you. Why would Kuba be angry at you?” Robert asked, sending Woj a death glare. The goalkeeper merely shrugged. 

“I dunno, he hasn’t exactly spoken to me since we got here,” Łukasz groaned. 

“Well, why don’t you go talk to him? That would sort out this entire nonexistent mess,” Woj announced as he rested his head on top of Robert’s. 

“Shut up, Woj, you’re really not helping at all,” Łukasz muttered. 

“I mean, he’s kinda right, Łukasz. Maybe if you try to talk to him, but he doesn’t want to talk to you, you can come back and then we’ll talk about it again?” Robert smiled. 

“That’s a good idea, Lewy, thank you,” Łukasz grinned before he left. 

“It was the exact same idea as me, you just said it better,” Woj laughed. 

“I say a lot of things better, Szczęsny. How’s Italy this time of the year?” Robert teased before he felt himself being pushed back onto the bed. 

“I’d rather be in Italy than be in Munich. 5-1, Lewy, really?” Woj shook his head before he stared into Robert’s eyes. “Don’t even get me started on the return leg.” 

“Hey, you’re second. I wouldn’t know what that’s like, being first. I’m sure it’s a change from fourth,” Lewy smirked. 

“Sometimes I wonder why I deal with you,” Wojciech frowned. 

“Because I’m a cocky little shit that you love,” Lewy reminded him before kissing him. 

Woj pulled back to stare at him for a minute before he unzipped the training jacket. The smirk that fell on his legs sent shivers down Robert’s spine. 

“Actually, Lewandowski, I think this is why I put up with you,” Woj announced before he kissed down the chiselled torso. 

“And my face has nothing to do with it? Please, this…” Lewy was pointing to his face. “…is irresistible.” 

“More like irritating, with the amount that you speak.” Woj shrugged before he kissed him again. 

“Do you want to be able to take your clothes off for the next few days?” Lewy threatened. 

“Please, they all know that you own me. I’m proud of the fact that I snatched the notorious Lewandowski. Those beautiful eyes…How many people threw themselves at you, Robert? Everybody except the person you wanted. You had to fight for me, didn’t you?” 

“You smug bastard,” Lewy cursed. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?” 

“Not as long as the two of us are still breathing,” Woj whispered before he kissed his neck. 

“So romantic, but shouldn’t I be on top? Unless you want my cock up your ass,” Lewy grinned. 

“Did you score a hattrick? Cause that’s the only time that happens. But, okay.” Woj licked his lips. 

They repositioned themselves so that Robert was on top, but then Woj chuckled at Lewy’s eagerness. 

“You realise I never said I was going to fuck you.” Woj watched as Robert’s jaw dropped. 

“You wouldn’t…Come on, Woj…” 

“Meh.” The goalkeeper smirked. 

××× 

“You’re angry at me,” Łukasz groaned as he hugged into Kuba. 

“You’ve been kicked in the head too many times. Why would I be mad at you? Tell me that,” Kuba sighed as he kissed his hair. 

“Kuba, if I knew that, I wouldn’t ask you that.” 

“Honestly, sometimes you worry me about how dense you are. Me mad at you? Never.” 

“But you were ignoring me.” 

“No, I wasn’t, you were just glued to Lewy and Woj.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Kuba laughed before he kissed the corner of the other man’s lips. 

“I love you,” Łukasz whispered before he kissed the other man. 

“I love you, too, Łu.”


	40. Marcus Rashford/Jesse Lingard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was requested by a reader. I hope you enjoy it

“Marcus, why are you grinning like a weirdo? You’re meant to be asleep,” Jesse muttered. 

That was true. It was late, and Jesse couldn’t sleep because the younger man wrapped in his arms kept laughing and giggling. 

“I’ve just realised how lucky the two of us are: we both are doing what we love, and we have each other. It’s perfect,” Marcus grinned, turning towards the older footballer. 

“I get it, but you need to sleep. We’re playing Chelsea tomorrow – today, actually,” Jesse yawned, kissing his forehead. 

“Yeah, yeah we are.” Marcus snuggled closer to the older man. “Can I be the big spoon?” 

Jesse sighed before he turned around, letting the younger man throw an arm over his torso before he kissed the back of his head. 

“Night, Jesse,” Marcus whispered, closing his eyes. 

“Night, love,” Jesse responded, lacing their fingers together. 

The two of them were lying on the sofa…well, more like Jesse was lying on the sofa and Marcus was lying on top of him, but neither man minded. 

“I can’t believe I scored, that’s two in two. I didn't think that I'd be that good,” Marcus grinned, his eyes darting up to Jesse’s. 

“I told you, you’ll always be good enough. I’m older, remember – I’m wise about these things,” Jesse smirked. 

“You’re not wise.” 

“I’m very wise, Marcus; I have to be if I put up with you on a daily basis.” Jesse grinned and then felt a hand on his wrist. 

“To put up with me?” Marcus raised an eyebrow before he kissed the older man. “You love having me around, you love me.” 

“I do, I do love you. Especially after that goal...Remind me to never annoy you, or try to run away from you.” 

“Now why would you be running away from me?” 

“Because, Marcus, I’m not as young as you are, and sometimes that is the only rest I get from you and your ways.” Jesse grinned, loving the way the younger man blushed. 

“I hate you,” Marcus whined. 

“I thought you loved me? I’m hurt. I’m never sharing my earphones with you because you’re too dense to bring your own.” Jesse kissed his forehead. 

Marcus mumbled something incoherent before he curled even closer around Jesse, if that was even possible. 

“I’ll take that as you love me?” 

“Yes, I do love you. Who else would be my personal heater when we travel?” Marcus asked in a ‘duh’ tone. 

Jesse just shook his head before he placed another kiss on his forehead. The two of them went back to watching the movie that they had missed half of. 

“Babe? Do you think we could go back to the start?” Marcus wondered, a huge grin on his face.


	41. Max Meyer/Julian Draxler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So eh, this is just porn really. I hoe you enjoy it because I've been sitting on it for a while.

There were two good things about being on International Break: being together and being alone. Another thing that was great was the fact that the two of them were young and filled with stamina, and that was how Julian found himself watching Max, watching his boyfriend stroke himself on the bed, staring at Julian with a smirk on his face. 

“Are you going to make me do all of the work, or…?” Max groaned as he let go of himself and dropped his head to the pillow. 

Another thing they loved about International Break? Jogi Löw was the best manager in the entire world - all of the double beds proved that. Julian was over by Max in a second, kissing him softly on the lips. Jules moved up beside him and dragged Max on top of him, placing his hands on the younger man’s hips. 

“Not fair, I’m naked, you’re not,” Max pouted. 

Julian sat up and rubbed his nose along the side of Max’s neck before he kissed it. 

“Well, you’re the one who broke one of the rules,” Julian whispered, and Max went rigid. 

“What?” he stuttered as he pulled back to stare into Julian’s eyes. 

“Kidding, Max,” Jules grinned before he kissed the younger man, he teeth sinking into his lip. 

Max went a bright red before he buried his head in Julian’s neck. 

“Jules…” he breathed. 

“How much do you want me, Maxi? How much do you want to feel me in you?” Julian whispered before he licked the shell of Max’s ear. 

“Jules, please. Fuck me,” Max begged. 

It didn’t take Julian long to move Max off of him so he could remove his training top and shorts. The older player rummaged through the drawer, searching for the lube and condoms. 

“Hurry up,” Max whined. 

Julian rolled his eyes before he turned back around, spread a generous amount of lube on his fingers and moved one finger around Max’s entrance. The younger man went to put a hand on his cock, but Julian grabbed his wrist. 

“Nope,” he smirked as he pushed one finger past the tight ring of muscle. 

After a few minutes of alternating the thrusts of that finger, Julian added a second and began to scissor them, spreading Max open. The younger man was a gasping, begging mess, pleading with Julian to hurry up and fuck him. 

“What way do you want it? You want to ride me? Feel me?” Julian smirked as he kissed down Max’s chest. 

“I, I wanna, I wanna ride you,” Max mumbled. 

Julian rolled on the condom and coated himself in lube before he dragged Max over to him and guided the younger man down to his fully hard cock. 

“You feel me? You feel me right in there?” Julian whispered as he caressed Max’s stomach. 

“So good, Jules, you feel so hard in me. Please…” Max begged. 

“Sh,” Julian mumbled before he kissed him, his hands on his hips guiding Max up and down. 

“You’re liking that, aren’t you? You love the way you bounce up and down, the way you slap against my skin. You’re so close, I can tell from the way you’re tightening around me,” Julian growled before he claimed Max’s lips in a searing kiss again. 

“Fuck, Jules, yes, please, please. Harder,” Max whined into Julian’s panting mouth. 

Julian nearly lifted Max fully off his cock before he slammed him back down on it, hard. Max’s mouth fell open in a silent moan that Julian took as an opportunity to kiss Max breathless once again. 

“I’m so close, Jules.” 

“I know you are, baby, I can feel you.” 

“Then fucking do something about it,” Max growled. 

Julian raked his nails down Max’s back, knowing that the little bit of pain would send the younger man over the edge. He was right. 

“Fuck,” Max cursed as he came between the two of them, loving the sting of Julian’s nails on his back. 

He kissed Julian, swallowing his moans as he came into the condom. 

“We need a shower,” Julian groaned as he glanced down at the sticky mess between them. 

“I can’t feel my legs,” Max complained. 

“There is a bath in there,” Julian smirked. 

Max sank into the hot water in front of Julian, who wrapped his warms around the Schalke player and kissed his neck. 

“I love you,” Julian whispered. 

“I love you too, Jules,” Max promised as he interlocked their fingers across his stomach. 

××× 

“You want to do what?” Julian cocked his head to the side. 

“I want to give you a blowjob with a flavoured condom. You’d think I wanted to give you open heart surgery or something,” Max grinned as he looked at the box. 

“Flavours?” Julian questioned. 

“Yeah: Peach, Cola, Watermelon, Strawberry and Mint tingle. Warning, this may cause your penis to tingle. What flavour?” 

“Eh, whichever? Are you at least going to, like, seduce me or something, or are you just going to drop on your knees?” 

“What do you take me for, Jules? Of course I’m going to tease the living fuck out of you,” Max smirked. “Think of it as revenge.” 

“Bitch.” 

“Your bitch.” 

Max kissed Julian before he kicked down the side of his neck and softly bit at the soft skin. He continued his way down, glossing over Julian’s hard stomach. He dropped to his knees and looked up through thick lashes, blue eyes meeting brown. Max kissed around the base of Julian’s cock, which was now twitching to life. 

“And you say I’m responsive,” Max smirked before he jerked it, not giving Julian enough time to retort. 

When it was hard enough, the young man rolled the mint tingle condom onto Julian. He kissed the tip before he licked the underside and took the head of Julian’s heavy cock in his mouth. Max used one hand to massage Julian’s balls as he took more of the older man into his mouth and down his neck. 

“Fuck, Max, what is that?” Jules growled. 

“Mint tingle, of course,” Max smirked as he jerked Julian’s cock a few times. 

“I hate you,” Julian whined. 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

“No!” Julian said quickly. 

“Thought not.” Max grinned before he licked at the tip of Julian’s cock, his hand jerking the base thereof. 

Max really was a wonder with his mouth; it felt like it was everywhere at once. And his fingers felt like they were silk, giving something, but nowhere near enough. From the little noises Julian was making, Max knew how close he must be. He rose back to his feet and kissed the older man, using his hand to jerk him off. 

“Never use that again,” Julian growled as he evened out his breathing. 

“Why?” Max smirked as he lay down beside him, resting his head on the rapidly moving chest. 

“Because it doesn’t tingle, it just stings after a while,” Julian mumbled into Max’s light hair. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t hurt you?” 

“No, it was more uncomfortable then anything,” Julian placated the younger man. 

“I’ve missed you,” Max frowned. 

“Not half as much as I’ve missed you, believe me,” Julian promised as he kissed the younger man’s hair.


	42. Dries Mertens/Jan Vertonghen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really just a Belgian puppy pile with Dries and Jan as the main pairing. I hope.you enjoy, I'm still working on a lot of requests and I've had his one completed for awhile.

“You actual dipshit,” Jan groaned as he rubbed his ankle. He felt everybody starting at him. “Go back to kicking the ball, would you?” 

“You’re the idiot that wanted to train on it. Now look - you could miss the game,” Dries whispered as he sat down on the grass beside him. 

“I know I’m an idiot, but, shit, Dri…This fucking hurts like I don’t even know what.” 

“Vertonghen, go to the doctor and try to not break your ankle on the way.” Roberto shook his head - if he knew that the defender was running on a dodgy ankle… 

“Yes, sir.” Jan nodded before Thibaut pulled him up gently, frowning when the defender hobbled away from him. 

“Bring Eden, Kevin and Toby to our room later?” Dries wondered, staring up at the goalkeeper. 

“Why, you want a cuddle fest? Aww, little Dries loves us!” Thibaut grinned. 

“Just tell them to come. I’m going to make sure he’s okay,” Dries muttered. 

“No, you’re not; listen up, all of you. Go get changed: We’re going back to the hotel because they are expecting some sort of freak storm and I don’t need all of you catching your deaths,” Roberto announced. 

The players nodded as they walked to the changing room. Jan was sitting there, a black support thing cupping his ankle as he held an ice pack to it. Dries pressed a quick kiss to Jan’s head before he went into the shower. Sure enough, by the time they were getting on the bus, it was pouring rain. Dries slid into the seat beside Jan, who was staring out at the dark grey sky. 

“Hurt?” He wondered as he dropped his head to the older man’s shoulder. 

“A bit, that’s why painkillers were invented. I was a bit of an idiot thinking I could run on it, wasn’t I?” Jan mumbled as he turned his head and ran his nose through the damp hair. 

“Just a bit - never do it again or I’ll kill you,” Dries growled. 

“I won’t, I’m sorry. So, why are we going back to the hotel?” 

“You weren’t told? There’s some sort of storm coming, so we’re going back to the hotel.” Dries shrugged. 

“Thunder and lightning means we’ll have Toby, Kevin, Eden and Thibaut with us,” Jan reminded the short man. 

“Well, I told them to come when you hobbled off like an old granny. You like it when we’re all together, anyway; you’ve affectionately nicknamed it ‘puppy piling,’ Jan.” Dries smirked. 

“I do like it.” 

The rain didn’t stop when they got off the bus, but the thunder and lightning had started. The two of them walked to their room, Jan moving a bit slower than usual. 

“Shouldn’t you be on crutches?” Dries cocked his head to the side. 

“No, it’ll be fine tomorrow. It’s just a little strain, I’ll be fine. Come on - you want to be in prime position for the cuddle fest, don’t you?” Jan grinned before he bent down to kiss Dries quickly. 

“Of course I do, what sort of question is that?” 

The taller man shrugged before he opened the door. He flopped on the large bed in the middle of the room. Dries wasted no time before he sat on his lap, kissing him passionately. A knock at the door interrupted the two of them. 

“Puppy pile time is always interrupting us,” Jan grinned before Dries slid off of him. 

Dries opened the door. Sure enough, Toby, Thibaut, Eden and Kevin were standing at the door, all grinning widely. 

“Jan, how’s the ankle?” Eden wondered as he walked around Dries and sat beside the defender. 

“Painful as fuck,” Jan groaned. 

“Good thing you have puppy pile to make you happy, then,” Toby smirked before he poked the older man on the knee. 

The thunder and lightning continued outside, along with the rain, for the rest of the night. The members of the Belgian national football team, however, were safe and comfortable inside the eldest man’s room, all curled around each other and watching a film on Netflix. This was perfect. 

“I love you,” Jan whispered before he kissed he top of Dries’ head, only to realise that the winger had fallen asleep. 

“He’s useless in the puppy piles.” Eden shook his head as he motioned down to where Kevin was also asleep. 

“I don’t think they can help that - it’s just so warm and cuddly.” Thibaut shrugged, resting his head on Toby’s shoulder.


	43. Cristiano Ronaldo/James Rodriguez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn after the Classico at the weekend. The pairing was requested by a reader, I'm sorry for keeping you waiting for so long.

“Fuck, Cris, what has you in such a good mood? We lost el Clásico, Sergio got sent off,” James muttered as the older man nuzzled at his neck, nipping and sucking softly. 

“Because you scored. And we still have a game in hand. It’s okay.” Cris rubbed his fingers up and down James’s crotch. 

“You’re taking this very well - I saw that little outburst when he scored…” James moaned at the pressure on his cock. 

“I got all of my frustrations out so I could watch you squirm,” Cris smirked before he rested his forehead on the younger man’s. “I love you.” 

“Well, when you’re making me squirm, I don’t love you,” James pouted. 

“Now, Hammie…we both know that you love it when you scream my name. If I can forgive you for letting the media think you want to leave, I think you can forgive me for giving you some of the best orgsams of your life, yes?” Cris whispered as he peppered kisses into James’s hairline, his hand working faster over the fabric. 

“Cris, please,” the Colombian whined before he kissed the older man, one hand cupping the back of his neck to bring his lips as close as possible. 

“Just because you’ve been so good, my Hammie, isn’t that right? Strip,” Cris ordered with one final firm kiss. 

He couldn’t stop himself from raising an eyebrow at how quickly James was stripping his clothes off, flinging them to the side of the living room. There was a mischievous grin on his kiss-bitten lips as he surged forward, practically ripping away Cris’ clothes. 

“Either I have some part of your body in me now, or I’ll be very mad at you for a long time,” James grumbled. 

“Fine. Do you want me to spread you open right here and then have you beg to bounce up and down on my cock? I don’t mind.” Cris grinned, while James couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped his parted lips. 

“That sounds like an idea,” James nodded eagerly before he pulled Cris to the sofa. 

Cris shrugged before he smashed their lips together as James rested his knees to the side of the older man’s hips. James reached behind the cushion and pulled out the lube, which he pressed into Cris’ hand. 

“Pretty please?” James smirked, nosing at his lover’s neck before he heard the cap click open. 

The moan vibrated low in his throat as Cris pressed a lubed finger into his tight heat, a very welcome feeling if you asked James. 

“You like that?” Cris wondered, already knowing the answer but asking nonetheless. 

“Yeah, so nice in there…but a second one would be better…” James breathed through clenched teeth as the older man ran his other hand along his cock, jerking it a few times. 

Cris kissed him quickly before he added a second finger, twisting them around inside of James and occasionally hitting the Colombian’s prostate. The younger man’s moans were swallowed by Cris’ mouth. 

“Please, Cris, please. I need you, please?” James stuttered. 

“I just want to make sure, Hammie - you can take a third finger, can’t you? I know you can,” Cris whispered in his ear before he sucked on the shell of his ear. 

James’s cries and moans of pleasure filled the room as Cris worked him open with three fingers, moving them across the special spot inside of the younger man that gave him so much pleasure. 

“Please, Cris, fuck,” James cursed before the older man pulled out his fingers. 

James dropped his head to Cris’ shoulder before he heard the lube click again. Then he heard the condom wrapper being ripped open, followed by a loud guttural moan that came from him as Cris slowly pushed into him, inch by inch, bit by bit. 

“Do you know how good you feel? Even though I worked you open for so long, you still feel so tight, just sitting there on my cock.” Cris grinned as he kissed the younger man, who started moving in response. 

“Cris, why? Why do you always tease me? I can’t anymore, do you know how close I was when you were fingering me?”

“I do,” Cris mumbled before he took to stroking the younger man, knowing how tired he was. 

From the second Cris’ fingers wrapped around James, the Colombian knew that he wasn’t going to last long, but he didn’t expect to completely blank out with the sheer power of it. The next thing James knew, something soft was on his stomach, wiping away his come. 

“You okay there, princess?” Cris smirked as he pulled the younger man into his arms, peppering kisses into his forehead. 

“Don’t call me princess,” James yawned. 

“Okay, Hammie, why don’t we go to bed?” 

“I’m comfy, that’s why.” James snuggled closer into the tanned arms. “Love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Cris whispered, kissing his head once again.


	44. Hugo Lloris/Eric Dier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this way back in my archives, I decided to post it. Let me know what you think.
> 
> I am sorry that it is taking me so long to get all of the requests out, but everyday just seems to be stressful. I hope you all don't mind

“So, two-hundredth appearance? That’s quite the feat, Hugo,” Eric smiled as the Frenchman pulled him into a hug. 

“Eh, it was fairly boring before you came along. Really boring,” Hugo whispered as he nosed at the short blond hair. Eric was starting to slip. 

“Too bad you didn’t keep a clean sheet,” Eric sighed as he breathed in the older man’s scent. 

Hugo made eye contact with Harry, who nodded to the door - he wanted to talk now? 

“Yeah, can you wait here for me for a few minutes? I wanna say something to Harry,” Hugo mumbled. They were the only three left in the locker room. 

“Okay.” Eric bit his lip as he sat down on the bench.

“What?” Hugo asked as he walked out to Harry. 

“What is going on with him and Dele? I’ve just had Dele rip me a new one giving out about him - and they have barely spoken to each other, Hugo,” Harry announced. 

“I don’t know, he hasn’t told me. I’ve been trying to find that out, Harry, what do you think I am?” Hugo muttered. 

“I’m not. Hugo, I’m just saying that Eric doesn’t seem to be himself…You know what? Forget I said anything. If he wants to talk to you, he will. Good game, Hugo,” Harry threw over his shoulder as he walked away.

Hugo walked back into the locker room. Eric was sitting in the same place, his eyes fixated on Dele’s locker. Hugo sat down beside him, wrapping a strong arm around the younger man. 

“Can we go home?” Eric whispered, turning to look into Hugo’s dark eyes. 

Hugo’s heart melted at the way Eric said home. Hugo kissed him softly. 

“Come on.” Hugo clasped their fingers together and they headed home. 

The car ride was quiet and Eric was nearly falling asleep. Hugo felt horrible about springing this on him when he was so vulnerable, but it was the only time Eric was truly open with him. 

“How are things between you and Dele?” Hugo asked when they got stuck in traffic. 

“He, he hasn’t really spoken to me,” Eric frowned as he played with the loose threads on his jacket. 

“Eric.” Hugo’s voice was hard and solid. “Don’t lie to me.” 

Eric looked at Hugo and let out a sigh. 

“He…he doesn’t understand…” Eric was starting to get a little upset now. 

“Hey, it’s okay. We can talk about it when we get home, is that okay with you? It looks like we might be stuck in this for a while; why don’t you go for a little nap?” Hugo smiled as he turned up the heating. 

“Okay,” Eric nodded as he rested his head against the window. 

Hugo spared looks at Eric throughout the rest of the journey, keeping one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand rested over Eric’s. He gently woke him up, knowing full well that after Eric slept he usually came back to him. 

“What do you want? If you’re here to wake me up, carry me,” Eric demanded. 

“I don’t want to break my neck, thank you. I’ll hold your hand if you want,” Hugo smirked. 

“Thanks, love.” Eric grinned as he got out of the car, both of them retreating inside to save themselves from the rain. 

After their shower, the two of them were resting on the sofa, watching something on Netflix. Well, not really watching it - more like having something playing in the background as Hugo kissed all around Eric’s face and neck. 

“What do you want?” Eric questioned as Hugo flattened his palm against his neck. 

“Talk to me about Dele. Things haven’t been the same since Belgium.” 

“Leave it, Hugo.” 

“Eric…” Hugo sighed, his eyes staring into Eric’s, making the younger man feel so vulnerable. “Please.” 

“He, he doesn’t understand what we have. He doesn’t like that I spend time with you,” Eric muttered before he dropped his head to the older man’s neck. 

“He’s jealous? Are you serious? I’ll talk to him tomorrow, babe, I promise,” Hugo announced, kissing Eric on the cheek. 

“Please, just don’t make it worse,” Eric muttered into his chest. 

“I won’t,” Hugo promised. 

××× 

“You seriously need to grow the fuck up.” So much for not making it worse. 

“What have I done? You’re the one that hogs him all the time,” Dele grumbled. 

“He’s not a toy, Dele. Eric can make his own mind up.”

Harry shook his head; he wasn’t going to get involved. 

“Well, how can I talk to him when you’re constantly glued to his side?” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, lads, both of you shut the bloody hell up.” So much for not getting involved. “Dele, accept the fact that Eric is spending time with Hugo. It’s what happens when you love somebody.” Harry threw his eyes to the heveans. 

“Just because you don’t have Luke here,” Dele grunted. 

Hugo’s face was a picture - did he really just bring that up? 

“No, he’s not, so be damn lucky that your best friend is here with you,” Harry growled. 

“Will the three of you just shut the fuck up? Dele, apologise to Ginge,” Eric demanded. 

Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname before he and Hugo left the room. When Eric emerged a few minutes later, he had the brightest smile on his face. 

“Remind me not to get you to try and fix anything again,” Eric muttered. 

“I tried.” Hugo shrugged before he dragged his lips against Eric’s temple.


	45. Jordan Henderson/Adam Lallana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some fluff that I've had in my pile of completed works.for a while. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> As always leave your prompts and requests below and I'll try my best to get them finished.

“Jor, why did both of us have to get injured at the same time?” Adam sighed as the younger man pulled him closer to his chest. 

“Because we are talented people, Ads, that’s why. Think of it, we have each other to talk to,” Jordan muttered into his soft hair, their fingers laced together and resting on Adam’s stomach. 

“Talented enough to keep in the top four? We’ve played more games than all of them.” Adam raised an eyebrow before he turned in to Jordan. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, Ads. We, as in the collective Liverpool cripples along with Sadio, need to focus on recovery - and Lord forbid that anybody else gets injured. The cripples can only fit so many in rehab,” Jordan joked. 

“Honestly, how long have you been waiting to make that joke? Seriously, babe, the only thing funny about you is your face.” Adam rolled his eyes before Jordan pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“My face is very pretty, thank you,” Jordan quipped. 

“How would you know? You broke all the mirrors.” 

“I’m hurt, Ads - thought you loved my face?” Jordan said overdramatically. 

“Oh, I love your face, but I just don’t like when you talk so much,” Adam mumbled. 

“I’d take offence to that, but with you wrapped around me and your fluffy hair sticking everywhere, how could I?” 

“My hair is not fluffy.” 

“Very fluffy, soft and pliable - just like you.” Adam could hear the smirk in the younger man’s voice before he felt the pad of his thumb run over his fingers. 

Adam knew what Jordan was doing. 

“You’re not fucking me when you’re injured, Jor. Nope.” 

“It’s only my foot. Please? It’s been three days!” Jordan complained. 

“Are you forgetting the fact that I, too, am injured? I don’t need to explain to Klopp that my recovery was dampened because my boyfriend is a crazy sex beast. Three days ago set us back a little bit already, so no sexy times,” Adam laughed. 

“Oh, why did you have to bring up Kloppo? I’m not a sex beast,” Jordan pouted. 

Adam found it adorable; he couldn’t resist kissing him quickly. 

“Just slightly.” Adam’s lips were just hovering over Jordan’s. 

“I love you, but can we go have dinner now?” Jordan wondered, always thinking about food. 

After dinner, the two of them were curled around each other on the sofa, Adam’s head on the younger man’s shoulder. A movie was playing in the background as Adam scrolled through his phone. 

“Ads?” Jordan whispered, his arms around the older man’s shoulders. 

“Yes?” 

“I love you, I really do.” 

Adam smiled before he turned his head, capturing Jordan’s lips. 

“I love you too, Jor, love you too,” Adam breathed against his lips.


	46. Luke Shaw/Harry Kane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotional hurt comfort and two awesome dogs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been having the best time of it lately, I want even sure if I was going to post it but I did. Don't even ask me where I came up with this pairing and I can't write it happily either. Also Kate is my favourite WAG after Lisa Müller
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and it's purely fictional, although I would push Jose into the Themes if I had the chance.
> 
> Thank you to Eafay70 for fixing this up and making it readable in my opinion.

Luke was lying on the bed, the incident replaying in his mind as the rain fell down the windowpane. He looked out at London: This was where he felt at home, safe, loved. Yes, loved so much by the older man who thought Luke was taking a nap right now. Harry hadn’t heard the words that had come out of the Portuguese coach’s mouth, or at least Luke didn’t think he had. 

Luke felt so stupid when he felt the hot tears roll down his cheeks and drip, much like the rain drops outside: forced to deal with the harsh wind that hated them, that tried to destroy them. 

‘Just like Jose is doing to you,’ Luke’s mind reminded him. 

At that moment in time Luke Shaw didn’t know if he wanted to curl up and never play football again, or if he wanted to run away from everything, even Harry, because he wasn’t good enough for the striker. 

The harsh flash of lightning made him feel a little better about crying; Luke hated thunder and lightning, and right now both were attacking him, ringing around his head. Brady and Wilson were barking like crazy, and Luke could hear Harry calm them down before the door creaked open. Luke didn’t move. He felt the bed shift behind him as the older man pulled him close, kissing the base of his skull. Luke couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped his lips, causing the two dogs to curl around him on the other side and form a protective blanket. 

“You’re okay, Lukey. We’re here with you,” Harry whispered. 

Luke spent a lot longer than he thought he would crying, although at this stage the thunder and lightning had passed. Harry hated seeing him like this - if Harry Kane ever saw that bastard, he was going to push him in the Thames. 

“Lukey, this isn’t about the thunder, is it?” Harry pressed a small kiss to the back of his neck. 

Luke didn’t say anything. He just repositioned himself so his head was buried in Harry’s neck. The older man was nosing in the soft hair. 

“Harry…” Luke whimpered.

“Don’t listen to a word that prick says, do you understand me? You’re 21, Luke – you’ve so much potential, your career is only getting started. He has no right to go on with all of that. Was he there when you broke your leg? No, he wasn’t. Your teammates were, because they appreciate you and love you. I love you. But listen to me: his biggest problem is that you didn’t go to Chelsea when he wanted you to. He’s punishing you, and it shows his character, not yours. You’re going to be the bigger person, love. Show him that you’re going to fight - not to please him, but to please yourself. The supporters are sickened with how he’s treating some of you, but Lukey, just don’t give up. He’s not worth your tears; nobody is. You’re too precious, too beautiful, too loving and kind and caring,” Harry promised before he kissed the younger man passionately. 

The two dogs spared their owner a look before they began to nose at Luke, their wet noses moving against his hand. 

“See, they agree with me, don’t you, boys?” Harry Kane talking to dogs, everybody. 

“I love you,” Luke smiled. The tear tracks were drying on his cheeks and his eyes were a fantastic shade of blue. 

“I love you too, Lukey; we all do. You know, if Kate was here…when Kate sees the thing, she’s going to flip, you know?” Harry warned. 

“Can she stab him with a spoon?” 

“Maybe we all will.” Harry kissed him again. 

Luke knew it was going to be an uphill battle against Jose, but with his support system, he liked his odds better.


	47. Eden Hazard/ Kevin De Bryune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic took a lot out of me to write, but I wanted to share it with you none the less. Unfortunately my migraines happen a lot more often than in the fic, maybe once or twice a week. I wanted to hilight this, just so people might understand that it's different than a normal headache and we can't just get on with it.
> 
> Feedback is appreciated and thank you all for being so kind and patient, your requests sill be coming when I get into a better headspace.

“Kev?” Eden whispered, his fingers gently moving up and down the younger man’s arm.

“Go. Go, Eden - I don’t want you here,” Kevin growled, squeezing his eyes shut.

“If you think I’m going to leave you when you’re like this, you obviously don’t know me at all.” Eden smiled softly, pressing a single kiss to Kevin’s cheek.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Like what? Kevin, it’s okay.”

Meanwhile, the younger man could taste the copper tang of his blood as he bit into his tongue. The pain started in the left side of his head but quickly, similar to lightning forking across the sky, it was spreading across his head, the ringing in his ears not helping at all. His hands were shaking as he gripped onto the sheets, forgetting about trying to be strong at this stage. It was too much now - every breath was just painful, getting caught in his throat as he swallowed. Kevin didn’t care when he felt the tears slide down his cheeks and ghost past his lips; every part of his body seemed to be on fire as he tried to move.

“Kevin, please tell me there’s something I can do,” Eden whispered, his own voice cracked and broken.

He couldn’t imagine the pain; he didn’t want to think of the pain that Kevin was going through, or anybody else. In Eden’s mind, anybody who could cope with this was a magician. Of course, Eden felt so stupid when he felt his own tears burn at the corners of his eyes. But the sight of the love of his life in this amount of pain was too much for the Belgian to handle.

“Get the doctor.” Kevin swallowed as he opened his eyes, instantly regretting it.

It was ten minutes before the doctor arrived. The look in his eyes made Kevin want to get sick even more than the pain in his head. He couldn’t deal with the pity - for as often as it happened, it wasn’t worth pity. But then again, this one must have been bad if Kevin himself had wanted the doctor. He even took the tablets without question, swallowing them with a gulp of water before he turned on his side and finally closed his eyes. The medication would knock him out, for a while anyway; the only time he wasn’t in pain was when he was asleep, so Eden counted it as a blessing. Eden sat with Kevin for a while, just watching him until he was sure he was completely asleep and safe before he left their room, walking down the corridor and knocking.

“What is it?” Thibaut called from the other side of the door. He opened the door. “Ed, what’s wrong?”

“Can I come in?” Eden asked.

Thibaut nodded, and Eden shimmied in past him, sitting on the corner of the bed. He felt himself being pulled into a one-arm hug.

“Come on…talk to me?” Thibaut requested.

“I feel so unless when I see him like that. He’s trying to be so strong for me, and I can barely hold it together myself. I don’t know how to help him, and it’s killing me,” Eden whispered.

“Another migraine? I thought the medication was working.”

“That just gets rid of the constant headache; he still gets an attack two or three times a month, with really bad headaches in between. I just don’t know what to do - when they give him these tablets he gets so groggy and moody.”

“I know. Look at me, Eden: I know it’s tough – actually, I don’t even know what it’s like at all. But you and him, you two will find a way, won’t you? You always do. It’s good that he’s asleep, means that it can’t hurt him,” Thibaut reminded his teammate.

“I suppose, but what do I do when he’s in Manchester and I’m in London? We’re both professional footballers. He won’t let me drop everything for him - I’ve tried that, and he didn’t talk to me for a week,” Eden muttered.

“Remember, he has a dutiful captain in Vincent to keep him company.” Thibaut couldn’t stop himself.

“I don’t know why I like you - that was terrible.” Eden narrowed his eyes.

“That means it was good. The reason Kevin won’t let you drop everything is because he doesn’t want you to see him like that. I’ve seen him like that once, and once was enough. It’s his way of protecting you from things that neither of you can control for the minute; it’s how much he loves you,” Thibaut grinned.

“Thank you so much. You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.” Eden fiddled with his fingers. “I’m going to go now.”

“I have an idea of how much you needed it,” Thiabut called before the door clicked shut.

Once Eden was back in his own room, he gently lay on the double bed and watched the gentle rise and fall of Kevin’s chest, so thankful that his beautiful boyfriend had found a bit of peace for the time being. But Eden knew that when he woke up, it would be another battle as the drugs wore off - a battle he’d gladly walk into, because Kevin meant everything to him.

“You make me so proud, do you know that? I love you,” Eden whispered before he ghosted his lips over the younger man’s forehead.


	48. Mesut Özil/Alexis Sanchez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Barton, I hope you enjoy this fic, I had so much fun writing it.
> 
> Warning for smut and humor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say that I really haven't had the best week but the majority of my readers have made it better and each comment from you makes my day a little better, except a certain Maureen..

They were the only two people in the gym. And of course they were, because the world liked to torture Mesut with the sight of his beautiful Alexis stretching and moving in shapes that he really shouldn’t be able to form, but would come in handy later.

“Earth to Mes…Hi, yes, are you feeling okay?” Alexis wondered as he sat on the weights table.

“I’m fine, need me to spot?” Mesut wondered as he walked behind the Chilean.

“No, Mesut, I’m going to ask the air to do it. I don’t think anybody would like it if I dropped these on me, now would they?”

“Oh? I can go, if you want to have alone time with your precious air,” Mesut smirked.

Alexis rolled his eyes before he turned the discs on the bar and slid under them. Mesut wasn’t staring at the tanned skin peeking out on his stomach. No, he wasn’t. He had something very important to do…okay, not that important, but still. So Mesut stood there, watching in a non-creepy way.

“So, chicken for dinner? Or do you want a Chilean delicacy?” Alexis grinned as he dragged a towel over his face.

“Maybe the delicacy before dinner, and the chicken for dinner?”

“Sounds perfect to me.” Alexis pecked his cheek as the two of them headed into the showers, their towels on their arms.

The silence was comfortable as the water sprayed over both of them

“When you said you would have the Chilean delicacy, did you mean now? ‘Cause I’d like that very much,” Alexis whispered, kissing Mesut’s neck.

“Can I at least use some shampoo before you pounce on me?” Mesut grinned before he backed Alexis into the wall, kissing him hard and messily.

“But we’re just going to have to clean up, my love. Come on, I saw the way you were staring at me all morning – obviously, fucking me before we left your house didn’t do you any good,” Alexis muttered before Mesut grabbed his cock, jerking it roughly a few times.

“Does this work for you?” Mesut grinned before he kissed the shorter man, sliding one hand down Alexis’ back and curling the other one around his shoulders.

Mesut moved his hand down to the two globes of soft flesh, slipping his finger between them as he felt around the younger man’s puckered entrance.

“I wonder how open you are from this morning? Because that was very fun,” Mesut whispered, drops of water running over his lips.

“Well, I might have planned this? Go over to my bag for a second.” Alexis grinned, his cheeks tinged pink.

Mesut followed the request: yup, lube and condoms. The German couldn’t stop himself from raising his eyebrow as he walked back over, slamming his lips to Alexis’.

“You’re cute when you blush. Turn around, and hands against the wall.” Mesut kissed down the side of his neck as he put some lube on his fingers, spreading it around the younger man.

“Come on, Mes, please? I don’t need that much prep, just you,” Alexis whined as two fingers easily slipped into him, moving around, twisting and spreading.

“But do you know how much I like seeing you beg? We both know you were teasing me, too - I don’t like that,” the German muttered, sucking harshly as he stroked his own cock to full hardness.

“Mes, please, babe. Fuck,” Alexis moaned as he arched his hips into the shower wall.

The spray of water wasn’t helping matters; every droplet made it feel as though Alexis’ body was on fire, and the paths of the drops meandering down added another sensation as Mesut took his fingers out. Alexis was about to make a remark before Mesut slowly pushed into him, the blunt head of his cock hitting his prostate the first time. Mesut couldn’t stop the smirk on his lips when Alexis cried out, arching his back.

“Mesut, Mes. More, harder - fuck me harder, now,” Alexis growled as the German nipped at his throat.

“How about you touch that pretty little cock for me? Wrap your hand around it, nice and hard…but don’t move it.”

The shorter man whined, the pressure good but not enough as Mesut pulled out of him. The German then fucked back into him repeatedly, causing the Chilean to cry out even more as he reached his climax, painting the shower wall with his come.

“So good, so beautiful,” Mesut praised his lover while he came down from his own high…before the realisation hit him of what they had just done.

“We are never having sex in a shower again - I nearly slipped and died,” Alexis sighed though laboured breathing as they cleaned themselves up again.

“What? Like the ball that was a bullet?” Mesut sniggered before he turned off the water, his skin a pink colour from the heat.

“Fuck off,” Alexis muttered.

“How are you getting home, then?”

“Fine, fuck off when we get home,” Alexis grinned, kissing the older man. “Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re never fucking in the showers again - any showers, I’m not explaining that.” Mesut shuddered as he wrapped the towel around his waist.


	49. Hugo Lloris/Eric Dier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having a rough time lately, I'm trying my best to keep going and I'm still taking requests. Thanks you all for being so patient and kind.

“Very beautiful, such a pretty goal. It really was,” Hugo grinned before he kissed down the side of Eric’s neck. 

“It was your present for coming back and not being sick.” Eric blushed slightly. 

Hugo couldn’t resist kissing him quickly, slowly nipping at his lips as his fingers rubbed over the back of his neck. 

“I think you’re going to get your reward for being so thoughtful, aren’t you? What did I ever do to deserve you? So beautiful,” Hugo whispered before he dragged a hand down Eric’s stomach. 

“Is this going to be you praising me? Or fucking me?” Eric groaned. 

“Fuck’s sake, Eric, I’m trying to be romantic here,” Hugo complained. 

“You know what would be really romantic? Me on my stomach with your cock in my ass, you breathing down my neck as you fuck into me,” Eric smirked before he ran a hand over the bulge in Hugo’s trousers. 

“Is that how you want it? Where I control everything, where you can’t even touch yourself? Is that what you want? To come on my cock alone?” Hugo whispered in his ear through his own moans. 

“Fuck, Hugo. I swear, if you don’t fuck me now…” 

“Well, I’m going to have to spread you open first.” Hugo shrugged before he took off the younger man’s trousers and boxers, leaving him standing there in just a white tee shirt. 

Eric slammed his lips to Hugo’s to shut him up, more than anything else – otherwise, he wouldn’t even get past the prep stage of their night. 

“On your hands and knees…that’s it, good boy.” Hugo smirked; he knew that drove Eric mad. 

The goalkeeper pulled out the drawer, found the lube and slathered some of the cool liquid on his fingers, rubbing the excess around Eric’s entrance, slightly dipping in his fingers every so often to tease him. 

“Hugo…” Eric whined pitifully before he bit into the pillow. “Please…” 

“Please what?” Hugo dipped his first finger further in before he withdrew it. 

“Please fuck me - I want to feel your fingers inside of me, I want to feel them pressing against me,” Eric grunted, annoyed about the fact that Hugo was making him beg. 

“See, wasn’t that hard, was it?” Hugo sucked a mark on his spine before he fully dipped in one finger, moving and twisting it inside of Eric. 

It wasn’t long before he added the second finger, spreading the two of them wide and opening Eric, who was now forced to bite into the pillow to stop himself from screaming too loudly. 

“No, none of that. I want to hear you,” Hugo announced as he brushed both fingers against his lover’s prostate. 

The pillow didn’t stop the howl that escaped Eric’s mouth, or the series of incoherent babbles that Hugo presumed was Portuguese and meant either ‘fuck me’ or ‘fuck you.’ He knew that Eric loved this. 

“Hugo, please. I want you in me!” Eric cried out in pleasure. 

“I am in you,” Hugo replied. 

“I want you in me properly.” 

“It’s a four-letter word, Eric, you can say it,” Hugo teased. 

“I want your cock in me, please, Hugo. I want to feel you throbbing in me, please…” Eric even moved back on his fingers to reinforce his pleas. 

Hugo kissed the back of his neck once before he pulled out his fingers - of course Eric whined at the loss, because it was Eric. Hugo took his own pants off and jerked his own cock a few times before he slathered it in lube and rolled on a condom. Slowly, he pushed his way past the tight ring of muscle and felt Eric move back against him. 

“Feel good, baby? You like it like this? Not being able to see me, but having all of my weight on you?” Hugo wondered as he nosed at the short hairs on the back of his neck. 

Eric’s only response was a high pitched moan that filled the room before Hugo started to fuck in and out of him hard and fast. 

“Hugo, Hugo, please?” It was coming out like a question, so it could only mean one thing. 

“You’re close? Come on, Eric. I always knew you were such a good boy, waiting for permission to come. So good for me, aren’t you?” Hugo praised, pressing more kisses to his shoulder blades as he snapped his hips harder. 

“Hugo!” Eric cried out. 

“Come for me, Eric, come on,” Hugo whispered as he continued to fuck him softly, feeling his body tighten around him. 

Eric closed his eyes in the pillow, groaning; the backs of his legs hurt, and so did his back. He let out a pitiful whine when Hugo pulled him into his strong arms, his lips moving against his forehead. 

“So good, so beautiful,” Hugo praised him. 

“That position never happens after a match again,” Eric muttered as he turned towards Hugo, rubbing his nose into his neck. 

“Do I not even get a thank you for cleaning you up?” Hugo rolled his eyes before he entwined their fingers. 

“Tired. Love you,” Eric whispered, blue eyes meeting brown. “Thank you for believing in me.” 

“I love you, too. I always will,” Hugo promised before he pulled the blanket up over the both of them.


	50. Mousa Dembele/Jan Vertonghen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sick fic  
> Fluff  
> I hope you enjoy OllyOpossum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a tough week and I honestly don't know how much more writing I'll get done before my exams. I'll try my best though ❤

“You alright in there, Jan?” Mousa called from bed.

Jan had been in the bathroom for the last fifteen minutes. Hopefully he hadn’t fallen over and cracked his skull open: Poch and Toby would kill him. The midfielder was getting worried - not that he would admit it. He swung his legs out of the warmth of the bed and walked to the bathroom, pushing the door open. Jan was sitting on the floor, the area around his eyes a dark red colour.

“Jan, what’s wrong? Do you feel sick?” Mousa wondered.

 

“I don’t feel sick, Mousa; I am sick, you beautiful idiot,” Jan whined before he rested his head on Mousa’s lap.

“Sorry, Jan, do you want to go back to bed?” Mousa mumbled, working his hands through the older man’s hair.

“Okay,” Jan nodded softly before Mousa stood up, pulling Jan up with him.

Jan curled around a mass of pillows and blankets, burying his nose in his furry blanket. Mousa slid in behind him, kissing the back of his neck and rubbing his hand up and down his cramping stomach.

“Sleep and painkillers?” Mousa whispered.

“Sounds good.” Jan turned in to Mousa.

Mousa dug through the drawer until he found the painkillers and gave them to Jan, who swallowed them dry. The older man mumbled something before he kissed Mousa’s neck.

“What was that?” Mousa mumbled, a smile on his lips.

“I love you,” Jan yawned.

“Love you too, Jan - go to sleep for a while, it might help.” Mousa nosed at his hair before he found some random documentary to occupy his thoughts for a while.

When Jan woke up, his stomach was still killing him. He buried his head in the pillow and reached out for Mousa, who wasn’t there.

“Mousa!” Jan shouted, instantly regretting it when his throat felt like he’d swallowed razor blades.

“What? What is it? What’s wrong?” Mousa panicked as he rushed into the room, holding a glass of water.

“Nothing, I just want a hug,” Jan muttered, dropping his head to Mousa’s shoulder.

“Oh Lord, you weren’t lying when you said you didn’t handle being sick. I thought somebody had tried to steal you,” Mousa joked, kissing the back of the older man’s head.

“The word is kidnap, Mousa,” Jan whined.

 

“I see your spirit is still intact. How do you feel?”

“Stomach hurts like a bitch, and I think you can hear my voice,” Jan muttered.

“I’ll be back in a minute in that case,” Mousa grinned before he kissed his forehead. “Get comfy.”

Jan complied and burrowed back under the blankets, watching the TV. Mousa walked back into the room a few minutes later, sitting a mug down on the bedside table.

“What is that? Is it green, or is it yellow?” Jan looked disgusted.

“Drink it - it’ll help, I promise.” Mousa kissed his cheek as he watched the defender take a sip of the liquid.

“What the fuck?! It tastes weird.”

“Honey, lemon and green tea for your throat, with some ginger for your stomach. Please drink it?” Mousa requested as he dragged his fingers through the thick shiny hair.

“Okay, I suppose it doesn’t taste that bad, maybe,” Jan mumbled as he drank the liquid.

They slipped into silence as Jan placed the mug back onto the table. He turned around and dropped his head into Mousa’s chest.

“Do you think you ate something bad? Because I’ll get sick for you even if you didn’t,” Mousa mumbled, kissing Jan’s head.

“Aww, you’re so romantic. I love you, moose…” Jan peeked up, and sure enough, Mousa was glaring at him.

“What did we say about calling me a deer, Vertonghen?” Mousa growled.

“But you’re my deer, dear,” Jan grinned.

“You are a pain in the arse, Jan.” Mousa laced their fingers together.

“You love me anyway, moose,” Jan smirked.


	51. Gerard Pique/Sergio Ramos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is complete crazy and funny that I wrote for teresa_ngx. 
> 
> Pairings include  
> Sergio Ramos/Gerard Pique  
> Cristiano Ronaldo/Leo Messi  
> James Rodriguez/ Neymar( more friendship that anything)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing this and to all of my kind reads who have left love my comments on my works for the last week, you don't know what they mean to me.

The get together had been put forward by Gerard, and the second that Cris had heard about it, he was adamant about it happening.

“Why do you want to mix with them?” Sergio whined, not liking the idea one bit.

“It’ll be fun. Please, Sergio? If you say no to me, I’ll just get James to change your mind,” Cris smiled.

“Fine. Only a few cules are allowed in my house. Choose wisely.” Sergio narrowed his eyes at Gerard, who was resting his head on the older man’s shoulder.

“I’ll always be allowed in your house,” Geri mumbled, pressing a kiss into his neck.

“Yeah, right, Mr. Twitter,” Sergio smirked.

 

Later that day, Sergio and Gerard were wrapped around each other on the sofa, with the taller man’s fingers buried in Sergio’s hair.

“I have a confession to make: there is an ulterior motive for this,” Gerard admitted.

“What? If you’re going to humiliate us in front of them, out you go.” Sergio pointed toward the window.

“I wouldn’t fit out of that. Anyway, I want to try and get Leo and Cris together. He admitted, under slightly dodgy circumstances, that he liked your guy.”

“Dodgy circumstances?”

“Ney and Luis got him piss drunk after the Champions League match. I, apparently, was a comfy pillow.”

“He touched you?! What if he makes you tiny?!” Sergio announced, outraged.

“Oh my God - if you lying on me doesn’t squish me, I think I’m good,” Gerard replied before he kissed him softly.

“That’s nice. How long do we have before everybody starts coming?”

“Not enough time for what you have in mind,” Gerard reasoned.

 

Within fifteen minutes, all of the invited guests were standing in Sergio’s home.

“Sit, go wild. Beer is in the fridge; Cris, you have that weird kale stuff,” Sergio grimaced.

“Don’t knock it until you try it, Ramos,” Cris smirked as he sucked on the straw.

Once everybody had a drink, they returned to the living room and sat on the floor in a circle consisting of Luis, Leo, Neymar, James, Cris, Marcelo, Toni, Sergio, Gerard and Gareth. All of the alcohol was in the middle of the table, including whisky and rum - and then Cris had an assortment of weird juices.

“Can I ask what we’re even doing here?” Luis wondered as he took a swig.

“Just some fun. I think we’ve established that Barcelona are the best team in Spain, so this can be our congratulations.” Gerard laughed at the outraged faces on the other players before Sergio elbowed him in the ribs.

“Alright, Mr. Twitter, who is still in the Champions League? Do you want us to hook you up with Mbappe’s number and teach you how to score against Juve?” Sergio growled in his ear, loud enough for everybody else to hear.

“Is this some weird Spanish foreplay? If it is, can I just have some vodka?” Toni shivered.

“Probably - can we do something fun? Like drinking games? You can stick to that gloopy green stuff.” Neymar tilted his head like an excited puppy.

“I’ll get the vodka,” Marcelo shouted as he ran to the kitchen.

“Vodka? Really? Could it not be some nice fruity cocktail?” Gareth frowned.

“No, you’re weird,” Luis smirked.

Marcelo came back a few minutes later, also carrying shot glasses precariously.

“How do you start a party and not have any vodka? You are a disgrace, Ramos,” James shook his head.

“What drinking games do you want to play?” Cris wondered, seemingly enjoying the green thing.

“Never have I ever?” Neymar shrugged.

That was met with various groans and curses from Gareth, who just wanted to leave or have some fruity goodness that didn't have kale in it.

“It’ll be fun, please?” James begged the Welshman.

“Fine.”

“Vodkas is first round, then whisky, then rum?” Toni wondered as the shots were poured out.

“This is going to be so fun. Before we start, I just want all of you to know that Gareth Bale is the best drunk in the world,” Marcelo grinned.

“I’m going first,” Neymar declared. “Never have I ever thought about fucking an international teammate, that I was not in a relationship with.”

Sergio, Gerard, Toni and Leo all took a shot.

“Never have I ever sucked off a teammate in the showers, when the team were outside,” Gareth smirked.

Toni was the only person to take a shot.

“Christ, Kroos, who?...I don’t want to know, actually,” Cris gagged.

“Never have I ever wanted to fuck a rival player on the pitch after we lost.” Toni narrowed his eyes as Cris took a drink of the pink smoothie along with Sergio, Geri and James.

“Prick, that tastes disgusting,” Cris whined.

“Never have I ever had a threesome with two people that were in a relationship.” Leo grinned when Neymar and Toni took a shot, although the German hesitated for a moment.

“Toni, since all of these questions have been about sex, you’re frightening me,” Marcelo clapped a hand around the German. “Plus you’ve completed it first.”

Toni simply glared at him before scratching at the side of his neck.

“Never have I ever used tingling lubricant,” Marcelo grinned.

Leo and Cris each drank, their eyes meeting.

“Keep it that way, it burns like fuck.” Leo was horrified at the memory.

“Please, do share,” Geri smirked as he dragged his lips up the side of Sergio’s neck.  
“You haven’t got a hope.” The Argentine frowned, but from the tinge on his cheeks Sergio and Gerard could only imagine who the other person was.

“Never have I ever had sex in a cinema.” Luis couldn’t contain his laughter when Neymar buried his head in James’s neck, before the two of them drank.

“Why is everybody so engaged in other people’s sex lives? It’s too weird,” Sergio noted.

“I agree,” Leo mumbled.

“You wanted to know if they’d ever had a three-way,” Gerard laughed.

“Shush, Mr. Twitter,” Sergio demanded.

“Stop calling me Mr. Twitter - they were off and you know it. Neuer broke his foot, for fuck’s sake,” Gerard growled.

“That’s not my fault - Toni, isn’t he alright? It's not like being offside had anything to do with a broken foot, plus it was an accident! You never want to hurt somebody,” Sergio argued.

“Eh, kinda? We fought when we sent them out of the competition,” Toni muttered, choosing to drink this time - that was not a fun conversation.

“I think that’s enough of this. You two, stop acting like a married couple with strange Spanish foreplay,” Gareth muttered, rubbing the back of Toni’s neck.

“I mean, there is something else we could do,” the German announced - and everybody looked at him.

“What?” Leo, Marcelo and Gerard questioned.

“Embarrassing stories are always fun,” the German shrugged.

“Oh, I have a brilliant one about Sergio. Okay, so one time we went out for dinner for our anniversary, and he was meant to be paying, but he forgot his wallet and I didn’t bring mine, so we had to call Iker to come and pay for it. Who forgets to bring their wallet to an anniversary dinner?” Gerard was giving him the look.

“Excuse me for forgetting that I was with a princess who wants everything handed to him. You should have brought yours,” Sergio shook his head.

“Sergio…” Gerard whined. “Come on, it was like two years ago.”

“I know, I'm sorry; remember that time you forgot my birthday?”

Gerard cursed before he nosed at Sergio's neck, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle as Sergio rested back between his legs.  
“You two are the strangest couple I’ve ever seen. It must be a Spanish thing,” Leo mumbled.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughs and jokes…before Sergio screamed in his kitchen. Geri ran to his side, and everybody else followed.

“Am I imagining this? Or is it the fact that I’m fairly tipsy?” Toni asked as he rubbed his eyes, holding onto Gareth, who was laughing so hard.

Cris and Leo were wrapped around each other, the older man’s hand buried in the shorter man’s hair.

“Oh my God, they are fucking, they are fucking. Oh my God…” James was staring at Neymar. “Did you know?”

“I didn’t know, oh my God - Leo, why didn’t you tell me??” The Brazilian muttered as the Real players started asking Cris the same questions.

“Okay, shut up, all of you!” Leo shouted. Who knew something so small could be so loud?

“The lube, oh, fuck…” Marcelo held a hand over his mouth.

Leo let out a groan before he buried his head into the older man’s shoulder.

“I told you our plan would work,” Geri smirked before he kissed Sergio.

“They were already together, you idiot.” Sergio rolled his eyes.

“I think we play football with a bunch of weirdos,” Luis admitted to Gareth, who was holding on to the now-snoozing Toni.

“Believe me, the Germans are weirder; they really like to keep it inside of the ranks,” Gareth grinned. “Snickers?”

“Sure, would you like a bin bag to go with that thing on your head?” Luis retorted as he took the bar.

“I like you,” Gareth mumbled through a full mouth.

“Give me the chocolate,” Toni demanded. “The Germans aren’t weird, we’re just really good looking.”

They couldn’t really argue with that as Toni ate the chocolate.

"CAN WE HAVE PIZZA?" James shouted over the mass chatter.

"Fine - go get the laptop, Geri," Sergio yawned.  
They spent the rest of the late night and early morning eating pizza, and the date for the next bonding session was set for Neymar's house.


	52. Toby Alderweireld/Vincent Janssen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure smut for OllyOpossum, I do hope you enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing.

“Fuck, Vincent, stop teasing,” Toby whined, looking at his lover with pouty lips.

“I’m stretching, it’s what you before training. Stop being a sex beast,” Vincent rolled his eyes as he continued to stretch.

“You’re just trying to make me pounce on you or something, aren’t you?” Toby muttered.

“Pounce? Fucking hell, Tobe. Wait until after the training session, then you can have this beautiful body all to yourself, okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine with that - kiss?” Toby requested, moving closer to the striker who pecked his cheek, his lips rubbing at the stubble.

“That’s all you’re getting,” Vincent laughed.

Really, the second they were back home and through the doors, Toby had Vincent pinned against the wall and was kissing at his neck.

“Think I’m allowed to ask Poch to not have you do stretches? Your ass just looks too good in those pants,” Toby smirked.

“Please refrain from talking about the manager, especially since you’re going to lead me to the bedroom,” Vincent shivered once the top layer was peeled off of his body.

“But I like the view here.”

“Yes, but the bed is comfy. I’ll ride you, so don't even try and object,” Vincent whispered, his hand sneaking around the older man’s neck.

“That’s a win-win situation, isn’t it? Come on, my beauty.” Vincent couldn’t stop the blush that spread on his cheeks at the nickname.

Toby shucked his hand off of his shoulder before he slid their fingers together and walked with the younger man to his room. Vincent was shoved down onto the bed before Toby climbed on top of him, kissing down his hard chest.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are? Because you are,” Toby whispered before he kissed the younger man passionately, their tongues wrestling against one another.

Vincent couldn’t hold back the moans that were escaping from his lips as Toby started to rub their hips together, a smirk dancing lightly on his lips.

“Like that?” Toby whispered, his voice sending shivers down the striker’s spine.

“I thought you don’t like teasing, you’re teasing,” Vincent pouted.

Toby shrugged before he kissed him softly, his hands moving to take off the rest of their clothes while he kissed every inch of Vincent’s face.

“Not that I don’t mind the cuteness, but shouldn’t I really be on top?” Vincent wondered.

“You will later, just relax for a minute. You’re so impatient,” Toby grinned.

Vincent grumbled under his breath before Toby kissed him. Toby then moved off of him before reaching into the drawer and pulling out the bottle of lube. It was cold and thick on his fingers as he moved them towards Vincent’s entrance, slowly rubbing it open and spreading the lube around. Toby kissed him softly before he moved one of his fingers inside of the younger man, twisting and turning it.

“Toby…” Vincent whined as the older man kissed at his neck.

“You like it,” Toby whispered as he added a second finger before Vincent let out a low moan when the defender brushed over his prostate.

“Toby? I’m actually begging you here, please,” Vincent breathed after a few minutes.

“Okay, okay. Just let me get comfortable,” Toby requested before he rolled on the condom, added a lot more lube and sat back against the pillows.

Vincent didn’t waste any time before he climbed on top of him, the younger man’s heels digging into the older man’s back as he adjusted to the feeling. Toby was whispering words of encouragement in Dutch before he kissed his cheek.

“Can you move?” Toby whispered as his fingers danced down the younger man’s spine.

“I could, but do you know how good this feels? The answer is, very good,” Vincent grinned before he kissed the defender messily, more tongue and teeth than anything else, and started to move ever so slightly.

“I wouldn’t know; I’ll take your word for it, though,” Toby breathed as he dragged Vincent against him, grinding the head of his cock against the younger man’s prostate.

“We’re going to change that, yeah?” Vincent wondered as he moved his hips, his arms wrapping around Toby’s neck.

“Maybe - right now, it’s about you,” Toby kissed him before he thrust his hips in time with Vincent.

For a while, the only things that could be heard in the room were the slapping of skin and the low, scratchy moans that found their way from Vincent and Toby. Vincent had his head resting against the older man’s shoulder as he felt his orgasm build up inside of him. Toby must have been able to tell, too, from the way he was moaning gibberish and the way he was tightening around the older man.

“Tobe, I don’t know,” Vincent choked out.

Toby responded by slowing the pace at which he was snapping his hips into the younger man, who had long since stopped moving with as much pace as earlier. The defender stroked his thumb over Vincent’s cheek before he kissed him, one hand moving between their hot bodies to run along his hard length. Toby winced when he felt Vincent’s blunt nails dig into his skin, leaving crescent moon indentations along it as he came.

Toby was very gentle when he pulled out, discarding the tissue he had used to clean them up along with the condom. The tattooed man pulled Vincent into his arms, pressing lots of kisses all along his face and neck as the Dutch striker tried to breath normally.

“Now you know why we don’t do that very often,” Toby mumbled as he carded his fingers through the messy hair.

“I love you, now sleep,” Vincent demanded as he curled in around him. “My legs hurt like fuck.”

“Love you too, Vinny - course we’re going to sleep,” Toby smiled kissing him one last time before he closed his eyes.

The two of them were exhausted, so what would be better than going to sleep together? Nothing, in their book.


	53. Eric Dier/Jan Vertonghen/Toby Alderwerield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So basically this is my very first attempt at a threeway, with quiet possibly three of the best looking Spurs players.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eafay70 for bateing this for me 

“Eric?” Jan whispered, curling his arm around the younger man.

“Go away, Jan,” Eric grumbled before both of them were encompassed by Toby, who placed a quick kiss to both of their hairlines.

“C’mon, Eric. If it’s anybody’s fault, it’s mine - I’m the one that gave away the free kick,” Toby sighed.

“Why are you crying, Eric? What’s wrong?” Jan wondered, nosing through the blond hair.

“Nothing, nothing happened.”

“Eric, don’t listen to the comments or read them. It’s only a few out of a lot.” Toby frowned, and Jan pulled back to stare at his fellow Belgian.

“Werkelijk? Nog een keer?” Jan asked, and Toby nodded.

“Ik weet, hoe kan je hem schuld geven?” Toby shrugged.

“Stop speaking in Dutch. I hate when you do this. Do you not want me to know what you’re saying about me?” Eric growled as he broke away from the two older men.

“Eric, come back,” Toby called before the youngest man stormed off, slamming the bedroom door.

Jan dropped his head to Toby’s shoulder before pressing a kiss to the younger man’s cheek.

“Should we go together, or…?” Jan questioned.

“I think he needs the both of us, come on.” Toby smiled and interlaced their fingers before they walked to the bedroom.

Sure enough, Eric was curled around the pillows and various blankets that he demanded be there because he was always cold; that was one of the main reasons his clothes were always too big for him. Toby slid in behind him while Jan lay in front of him, thumbing away his tears.

“I love you, we love you…” Toby peppered kisses along the side of Eric’s face.

“Stop, that damn facial hair of yours,” Eric squirmed.

“You love it,” Toby grinned before he moved to kiss Eric, slipping his tongue into the youngest man’s mouth.

“I do.” Eric smiled and turned his head to kiss Jan – and then whined when he felt Toby’s fingers move down along his stomach to his crotch.

“So, think you’ll stop reading about the stupidity? We'll tell you what happened today when we figure it out, okay?” Jan whispered against his lips before he nuzzled at his neck.

“Strip, clothes off.” Toby smirked before he pulled off his own top.

“Do it for me,” Eric demanded before he yanked the older man up to face him and Jan.

“Can’t keep him waiting, can we?” Jan raised his eyebrow before he sucked a mark into Eric’s shoulder once his top was thrown to the side.

Toby wasted no time in pulling off his trousers before he littered Eric’s pale body with kisses, working his way down to Eric’s cock and nipping at the skin around it. Jan swallowed all of the moans that were falling from the young man’s mouth with his own, his tongue suppressing Eric’s.

“Fuck,” Eric groaned when he felt Toby’s hot mouth move along his aching cock, licking up and down the underside.

“You like it?” Jan mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck.

“You know as well as I do - there’s nothing better than Toby’s mouth,” Eric breathed, lifting his hips up a little bit.

“What about when his fingers are inside of you? Hm? Or his cock?” Jan teased, nipping at his pulse point.

“Fuck, no, don’t tease me, Jan,” Eric pouted before he whined when Toby sucked a little too eagerly, his hand jerking the base.

“If anybody is teasing you, pretty boy, it’s him.” Jan dragged his fingers through Eric’s soft hair before he kissed him softly. “Love you.”

“Love you – oh, fuck, again, Toby. Please, I’m close,” Eric whimpered.

A single smirk from Toby had Jan kissing Eric again, more a brush of his lips than anything else.

“You want to come in Toby’s mouth, don’t you? You want to be able to taste yourself on him every time you kiss him, every time you kiss me. Is that what you want?” Jan felt slightly satisfied when Eric came from his words, a few curses finding their way out.

However, Jan wasn’t expecting to be kissed harshly by his fellow Belgian, who had a wicked smirk on his face when he pulled away, swallowing slightly.

“That was really fucking hot,” Eric breathed as he watched the two of them kiss, still slightly dazed from his orgasm.

“That’s not the last for you tonight, baby - still gotta get fucked.” Toby shook his head before he pressed a kiss on Eric’s bitten lips.

“That’s fine by me, really,” Eric mumbled.

Toby rolled his eyes before he pulled out the lube and spread it over two of his fingers, gently slipping one finger past the tight muscle. He looked up, and his heart swelled: Eric had his head on Jan’s torso, and the eldest defender was lovingly stroking Eric’s cheek, his lips just resting on his forehead. Eric’s mouth fell open in a silent scream as Toby brushed past his prostate.

“Again,” Eric demanded, before Jan kissed him to quiet his moans.

“Perfect, who’s perfect?” Toby smirked before he added a second finger, spreading them.

“Fuck, Tobe. Please, I need you, pretty please?” Eric begged, twisting on Toby’s fingers and burying his head into Jan’s stomach.

“Anything for you.” Toby kissed the inside of his thighs before kissing up his stomach.

“Then fucking hurry up,” Eric grumbled before he yanked Toby down into a bruising kiss.

“Now, how am I meant to fuck you if you keep kissing me like that? Jan’s your kissing buddy tonight, because he got to fuck you the last time - even though it was my turn,” Toby pouted, staring at the older man.

“You were a bit injured, my love,” Jan reminded him.

“Still…”

Jan rolled his eyes before he kissed Toby, gently slipping his tongue into the slightly younger man’s mouth.

“As lovely as it is to watch the two of you kissing…please, I want my cushion back, and I want a cock in me,” Eric whined as they broke apart.

“Such a whiny princess,” Jan grinned before he settled back down, carding his fingers through Eric’s hair. Meanwhile, Toby lubed himself up and rolled a condom onto himself.

“You love me,” Eric smirked as Toby entered him, a groan escaping his mouth before Jan scraped his nails down his stomach.

“We do, we do very much,” Toby muttered, nuzzling at Eric’s collarbone.

Soon, the only sounds filling the room were Eric’s moans and whines, or Toby’s curses when the youngest man dug his fingernails in a bit too far. Eric was close to coming again, his blue eyes alight with a burning desire as he dragged Jan down into a bruising kiss. For some reason, Jan was still dressed, and that wouldn’t work for Eric - no, no, it wouldn’t. 

“Why do you still have your clothes on? I don’t like it.” Eric narrowed his eyes, as though the fabric had done something to him personally…Well, it was stopping him from looking at Jan’s beauty.

“Somebody has to be decent enough to take care of the both of you,” Jan answered, kissing his forehead.

Eric’s retort was cut short when Toby ran his hand over the youngest man’s cock, his thumb rubbing the beads of precome around the slit. A loud moan echoed through the bedroom.

“Fuck, fuck,” Eric cursed, turning his head as he moved in time with Toby’s thrusts; he was nearly there.

“So, you know that one of the best feelings in the world is being inside of you when you’re nearly ready to come? No matter how long we’ve fucked you for, you get so tight - it feels so good. You’re perfect in every sense of the word, you know that? Our beautiful Eric, you belong to me and Toby. Nobody else is ever going to touch you, are they?” Jan whispered as his hand took the place of Toby’s in stroking Eric over the edge, although it really didn’t take much.

The moans were deafening, but they were music to Jan’s ears as Eric collapsed on his back, whining pitifully as Toby pulled out and discarded the condom while Jan cleaned up the sticky mess on Eric’s stomach.

“See what I mean? You come and then go to sleep,” Jan muttered, leaning over to kiss Toby.

“Later you’ll be screaming my name, so please…” Toby smirked as he turned on his side, kissing the back of Eric’s neck. “Love you.”

“You’re not getting near this ass,” Jan said.

“Can I?” Eric mumbled, already half-asleep.

“We’ll see. I’ll have dinner made before I wake you up later, okay?” Jan whispered, nosing at his hair before he went to get up.

“Stay? Please?” Eric tightened his grip on the older man’s hand, and Toby nodded quickly.

“Course I will.”

For some reason, Eric always ended up in the middle of his Belgian sandwich, but he didn’t really mind, not when her meant this much to them. He felt Toby’s lips run along his shoulder while Jan kissed his forehead

“I love the both of you.”

“We know - we love you, too,” Toby promised.


	54. Isco/James Rodriguez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and cuddles, scared Isco  
> Requested by reader, I hope you enjoy it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing this fic

“James, come back here - it’s cold,” Isco whined as he pulled the Colombian closer to him, trying to steal some of his body heat.

“You might be cold, I’m not. You’re smothering me, Isco,” James muttered as he tried to move away from the bearded man.

“You don’t like my hugs? Hammie…”

“I love your hugs, Isco, but not when I’m dying with the heat. If you're cold, go take a shower. I’ll make popcorn or pizza, and we can watch a film?” James wondered.

“Okay. Popcorn, though: salty and sweet, just like you,” Isco whispered before he kissed him slightly.

“Go warm up; I’m picking the creepy Netflix film this time,” James smiled before Isco grabbed some clothes and hopped to the bathroom like an excited puppy.

James walked down to the kitchen and made the popcorn, wondering just how much trouble they would get in for making this at nearly 2 in the morning…but they were through to the final, so it was okay. He grabbed a bottle of something to drink and carried the bowls back to their room. Isco was sitting on the bed, his skin tinged red underneath the thick hoodie and the blankets.

“That was quick,” James remarked as he snuggled close to him, resting the two bowls on their laps and the bottle between them.

“I wanted popcorn. What crazy Netflix film do you want to watch tonight? Not the one with the sheep, Gareth didn’t appreciate that,” Isco laughed before he began crunching on the salty snack.

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Hush’? Or ‘Would You Rather.’ Toni said they were good.”

“Then find them.”

They found the films and decided on ‘Never Have I Ever.’ Isco spent the majority of the film buried in James’s neck, leaving every so often to grab a handful of popcorn to munch on. He was going to kill Toni during the next training session, which, truth be told, was in a few hours.

“Hammie? Is it safe to, like, watch?” Isco mumbled.

“Yeah, it is – wait, no, babe, fuck!” The Colombian couldn’t stop laughing at the shriek that escaped Isco’s mouth at the scene.

“James Rodriguez, I don’t like you. Give me the popcorn,” Isco scowled as he shoved it into his mouth, chewing loudly.

“It’s nearly over, though - then we can go back to bed?” James whispered as he cuddled into him, kissing his cheek.

“Not a chance - I’ve just seen that, I’m never sleeping again. Or playing never have I ever,” Isco shivered. “Move, you’re too hot.”

“See, all this fear is making you warm. It means I can sleep without you wrapped around me,” James yawned.

“No,” Isco objected as he locked James in an iron-tight grip.

James patted him on the head; Isco was a strange one. Finally, the end credits rolled, and Isco had a horrified look on his face.

“She went through all that, for that to happen?” Isco frowned.

“I’d do it for you,” James muttered as he moved away the bowls, rolled over and turned off the TV. “Night.”

 

Of course, Isco didn’t sleep, so when he found the German the next morning in training, he stormed over to him.

“We are never taking movie suggestions from you, ever,” Isco pouted.

“Judging by that reaction, it’s either Gareth’s favourite film, ‘Would You Rather' or ‘Hush.’” Sergio shrugged an arm over Toni’s shoulder.

“‘Would You Rather,’” James supplied as he pecked Isco’s cheek.

“See, that one wasn’t even that bad; there are worse ones,” Sergio muttered, remembering one such film.

“Thank you, Serg,” Toni grinned. “I’m sure James made you feel okay after it, though.”

“Shush, Toni; for your information, he was too freaked out,” James muttered, and Isco raised his hands dramatically.

“James…” he whined.

“We’ll leave you two lovebirds to it,” Sergio smirked as he and Toni walked off.

Isco was a bright shade of pink as he muttered something about how big of an idiot James was.

“Shush, I love you,” James grinned before he kissed him.

“No public displays of affection during training,” Sergio shouted.

“Try and follow your own rules,” James retorted.


	55. Christian Eriksen/Vincent Janssen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff  
> Established relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing it.

“What’s wrong with my handsome Dutchman?” Christian wondered as he slid his arm around Vincent, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I’m annoyed,” Vincent muttered.

“Do you want to tell me why? Please?” Christian grinned.

“It would be nice to score from open play for once, that would be lovely. Like, I did it fine in Holland and for the national team, but look…”

“Everybody knows that it takes time to adjust. Are you listening to the Twitter memes about how the world is ending? If you are, that beautiful head of yours is very stupid,” Christian chided before he rested his head on Vincent’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine.”

“How is it going to be fine, Chris? I might not even be here, for fuck’s sake,” Vincent snapped as he pulled out of the older man’s hug.

“Vincent, Vince,” Christian called.

“Leave me alone!” Vincent shouted before he slammed the bedroom door shut.

Christian looked past the fact that he was basically locked out of his own bedroom, because this must’ve really been eating away at his striker. He melted back into the sofa before the rain came; he’d let Vincent cool off for a while before he’d go and talk to him. For now, Christian had some weird puzzle game to keep him occupied.

As a little peace offering, Christian made a mug of tea; he was so caring, wasn’t he? He held it in his hand as he opened the door, not bothering to knock - it was his house, anyway. Vincent was lying in bed, buried under the blankets. Christian didn’t know why he just didn’t put a top on if he was cold.

“I have tea,” Christian smiled as he placed the mug down beside Vincent’s charging phone.

The Dane proceeded to crawl under the covers with Vincent, finding his hand and bringing it to his lips.

“I’m sorry,” Vincent mumbled before he drank the tea.

“It’s okay. Drink that, and then talk to me about it.” Christian pressed another kiss to his knuckles.

Silence overtook them again as Vincent drank the mug of tea before he shifted his body, his head now resting on Christian’s shoulder. The young striker kissed his collarbone before their eyes met while Christian’s fingers dug in the beautifully coloured locks.

“Two goals in twenty-four appearances, versus twenty-nine goals in sixty-nine and then twenty-seven goals in thirty-four appearances. I should just give back the Cruyff award. I mean, even thinking about it, I’m shit with the national team, too. Am I even going to go to the World Cup? Doesn’t look like it,” Vincent muttered.

“We all know there’s something going on with the Netherlands. You’ll be fine - you’re not even twenty-three years of age, Vincent. Top scorer in any league isn’t easy, and you managed it. You’re still a young lad, with a nice, long lifespan left in those legs. You know, I get nervous every time I walk on to that pitch,” Christian announced, still tugging at his hair.

“Why? You’re literal perfection, if I could worship you…That came out weird, didn’t it?” Vincent’s face was burning red as he stared at Christian.

“I know what you mean. It’s just, people expect so much from you, of you. Then with the rumours of the other clubs coming to buy me - like, this week it’s Barcelona? It just, it makes you feel unsettled. But then you train harder and play with your heart out to prove that you’re fighting; that’s what you’re doing and going to continue to do, yes?” Christian kissed his head again.

“How? You’re not going to Spain, are you? I mean, I don’t know, Chris - what happens if I go somewhere else? What happens to us?” Vincent was breathing hard at the thought of leaving; he loved this place and the people.

“Hey…” Christian pulled back enough just to brush their lips together, which seemed to be enough to calm Vincent so he wasn’t hyperventilating. “If that happens, we’ll work it out. We wouldn’t be the first couple - I mean, I can think of a few examples. Hugo only has to drive a few minutes; poor Jan has to fly to Italy. It wouldn’t matter where you were, I’d find my way back to you.”

Christian dragged his fingers through the younger man’s hair as Vincent wrapped his arms around the blue-eyed man’s middle.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much,” Vincent grinned before he kissed Christian, not even giving him time to respond.

“I love you, too,” Christian breathed as he stroked his thumb over Vincent’s cheek, their foreheads resting together.


	56. James Rodriguez/Neymar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff  
> Emotional hurt comfort

“James? What’s wrong, mi amor?” Neymar wondered, dragging his fingertips down the older man’s spine.

“There’s nothing wrong, Ney, go back to sleep,” James yawned as he turned to face him.

“That’s not going to happen. Talk to me, please?” Neymar frowned.

“You wouldn’t understand anyway,” James dismissed his concern. “I’m going to the other room.”

“James, come here.” Neymar sighed as he pulled the other man close to him, pressing kisses to his head. “Talk to me, Hammie.”

“I just don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t look anywhere without somebody linking me to a move away from Madrid. I hate it, it makes me feel so useless,” James whispered.

“James, how long? How long have you felt this way?” Neymar asked, digging his fingers into the older man’s silky brown hair.

“I dunno, February?” James admitted.

Neymar didn’t know if he wanted to scream and shout, or if he wanted to hug James close and never let him leave. How had he not noticed that James was hurting? Sure, they didn’t get to see each other as much as other couples did, but they made it work with Neymar visiting during the week. Still, how had he not realized this?

“Hey, I know that look - it’s not your fault. It’s just very disheartening, not playing and then people deciding where I’m going…” James pecked his lips.

“I should have realised you were feeling down,” Neymar argued. “You’ve been going through this, and you couldn’t tell me…”

“It’s not that I couldn’t - I didn’t want to, Ney. I didn’t want you to worry too much. I should have told you, I’m sorry,” James whispered before the Brazilian kissed him passionately, wrapping his fingers in the silky hair.

“Oh, but you can tell me anything, Hammie; you can tell me anything you want, and I won’t mind,” Neymar promised.

“I know I can. I won’t keep anything from you ever again, okay? Well, you know what I mean,” James grinned.

“Just because I asked you once what was going to happen during El Clásico,” Neymar pouted.

“Yeah, that wasn’t very nice, was it?” James teased before they slipped into a casual silence.

James dragged his nails up and down the Barca man’s back, grinning at the way Neymar squirmed.

“Hammie?” Neymar yawned a little while later, his lips pressed into the older man’s forehead.

“Yeah?”

“Can we go back to sleep? It’s not even six in the morning,” Neymar complained.

“Yeah, mi amor, sleep would be very nice right now,” James muttered, nosing at the younger man’s neck.

The two of them had a lot longer to sleep together before James had to go to training for the second leg. Neymar kissed his head again, this time muttering in Portuguese so James wouldn’t know just how wrapped around the Colombian’s finger the Brazilian was.


	57. Dries Mertens/Jan Veronghen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff  
> Smut  
> Cuddly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> liefdewint, I hope this is what you needed. It helped me a little bit when I was writing this because I've been having a very bad time lately, very bad. I hope this makes you feel a little bit better.
> 
> Eafay70, where do I begin with you? Well you know yourself what you do and thank you for betaing this. You are the polisher tags I so desperately required, in more ways than one.

“Morning, why didn’t you wake me?” Dries yawned, nosing at the side of the older man’s neck as he rested his knees beside Jan’s hips.

“You got in late last night, I wanted to let you sleep a little longer. Congratulations on Champions League play-offs,” Jan grinned, his fingers dragging down along Dries’ collarbone.

“Congratulations on going straight through – although English teams don’t have the best luck in the competition, do they?” Dries mumbled.

“Stop talking about football for a minute,” Jan whispered before he kissed Dries softly, his fingers knotting in the shorter man’s sleep-mussed hair.

“I missed you.” Dries kissed him back, hot tongues moving against each other.

Their teeth scraped over each other’s lips before Jan pulled Dries as close as possible, smirking when the younger man moved his hand underneath his tee-shirt.

“A bit eager, aren’t we?” Jan teased, breaking away to stare at Dries and take in his dishevelled appearance.

“Yeah – I would have done it last night, but I was very tired. I can go if you like,” Dries shrugged, his thumb rubbing circles into the hardened but soft skin.

“Never. Don’t give me that innocent look that you give the officials and everybody else in your life. It doesn’t work on me anymore,” Jan laughed, kissing the pout off of Dries’ lips.

Well, it was more than the pout that Jan kissed off. Their kisses were like fire, burning every inch of Dries’ skin as Jan kissed down his stomach and back up, being a teasing little prick, his hand occasionally rubbing over the obvious bulge in fabric. Clothes were being flung everywhere; apparently, Dries didn’t like it that Jan still had clothes on like a normal person.

“Did you plan this?” Dries whined. “You’re going to fuck me on a sofa.”

“I didn’t plan this, but I planned for something like this,” Jan admitted before he put some lube on one of his fingers and gently eased it inside of the younger man.

Dries’ response was cut off by a moan when Jan added in a second finger, spreading them out as though he was stroking Dries from the inside. Dries did manage to start cursing in a variety of languages whenever Jan brushed over his prostate.

“Jan, what are you doing?” Dries breathed, staring at Jan with his tongue peeking out from his lips.

“What does it look like?” Jan raised an eyebrow before he added a third finger, moving all three of them inside of Dries.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jan…” Dries moaned loudly, dragging the older man down for a bruising kiss.

“You like that?”

“Don’t start,” Dries grumbled before Jan took out his fingers, sitting back on the sofa. “Where are you going?”

“I’m getting comfy. Come here…” Jan smirked at the blush that tinged Dries’ cheeks.

The younger man wasted no time in getting back into the position he was in earlier that morning, his knees at Jan’s hips and his fingers tangled in silky hair. Jan pressed a kiss to the stubbly beard thing on his cheek as he rolled on the condom and applied some more of the cold lube. Their lips met in a searing kiss before Dries bit into Jan’s when he felt the older man’s cock move inside of him, pulsing and twitching inside of him as Dries got used to having his full length in him.

“I missed this,” Dries grinned, peppering kisses along Jan’s neck.

“Only this? I mean I don’t know if I should be pleased or not,” Jan smirked before he rolled his hips, his thumbs digging into the beautiful skin.

“Not just this,” Dries promised before he kissed him, moaning into his mouth as he moved.

“Good – we all know you’re devious, Dries,” Jan whispered against his lips, his hand dragging down Dries’ body before it feathered over his leaking cock.

“I learned from you,” Dries moaned from the pressure of Jan jerking his cock.

Loud moaning, skin hitting skin and lips touching were the only sounds that filled the room as Dries came close to orgasm, tightening around Jan before his fingers dug sharply into his shoulders.

“You’re so pretty like this, all pink and breathless. Do you know that? I’d love to keep you like this forever,” Jan muttered into the younger man’s ear, dragging his teeth along his earlobe as he fucked into Dries.

Jan smirked when Dries came with a low groan, kissing and sucking a mark into Jan’s neck as he tightened around the older man’s cock, sending him over the edge with a vibration from the bottom of his throat as Dries licked at the mark on his skin.

This position wasn’t everything it planned to be as Jan peppered kisses into Dries’ hairline.

“I’m good but not coma-inducing, my love,” Jan mumbled as he cleaned up both of them, thankful that he’d planned this.

“I’d never hear the end of it if you were,” Dries muttered as he shifted, pressing his lips to Jan’s. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Jan smiled before he rubbed their noses together sweetly, his hand playing with Dries’ hair.


	58. Manuel Neuer/Mats Hummels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff  
> Getting together  
> First kiss  
> Thomas Müller is the best friend that everybody needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was requested by a reader, I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Thanks like you to Eafay70 for lending your services again.

They were training for an upcoming international match, but Manu seemed very distracted as Thomas scored his sixth penalty out of six attempts. The younger man frowned - until he realised what was wrong with his best friend.

“Manu, stop staring at Mats and concentrate,” Thomas complained before Manu saved the seventh. “About time.”

“Shut up, Thomas. Come here for a minute,” Manuel beckoned with a gloved finger.

“I’m pretty sure you’d rather have him here, but okay.” Thomas winked before he stopped in front of Manu. “What can I do?”

“You know how I love you with all my heart? You’re the best friend anybody could ask for and I’ve never asked you for anything?” Manuel smiled as Thomas grinned at the comments.

“You do know how to butter a man up, Neuer; what do you want me to do? Because if Mats is standing in front of you when we play Denmark and you concede, I’ll be annoyed at the two of you. Stop staring at his ass.” Thomas smacked Manuel on the side of the head.

“I want you to gauge and see if he may reciprocate my feelings.” Manuel nodded as he spoke.

“Shit, Manu – like, I know we all have the running joke that when Mats retires he’ll become a commentator, but you should, too. That was very nice language. I’ll see what I can do, buddy,” Thomas grinned that toothy grin that made Manu’s heart swell with every ounce of brotherly love he had for this man.

“Thanks, Mülli.”

So Thomas left Manu at the goal and went over to where Mats and Jérôme were talking by the water. Manuel couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he had to divert his blue eyes from the group when Mats turned his head so fast that Manu thought he might have gotten whiplash. Then Boa started cackling before Mats looked at Thomas.

“That’s it for tonight, everybody; get showered and changed,” Jogi called, and Mats looked delighted.

Manu searched for Thomas, but of course Toni had a grip on him, meaning that Thomas Müller wouldn’t be seen for a long time. Manu had just taken a seat on the bus when he felt somebody slide in beside him.

“Hi, Manu,” Mats grinned.

“Mats, you feeling alright? You look a little…strange,” Manu noted, looking at the younger man.

“Manu, we won a World Cup together - do you trust me?” Mats wondered.

“I don’t see what those two things have in common, but yes, I do,” Manuel nodded, watching as Mats swallowed thickly.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Mats wondered, dark brown eyes staring into blue.

Manu felt a shiver run down his back; it almost felt as though Mats was looking inside of him. That stupid, beautiful face…

“Tell you what?” Manuel questioned. Okay, maybe he knew by the obscene kissing gestures that Toni and Thomas were making.

“That I could have been doing this for a lot longer.” Mats grinned before he cupped the back of Manuel’s neck pressing their lips together.

“This is not a school bus, Neuer and Hummels - or Kroos and Müller. Can you all just not?” Marco grumbled.

“Somebody just wants a Robert pillow,” Mats winked before he kissed Manu again, resting his head on the keeper’s shoulder.

“Snake.” Marco stuck his tongue out.

“Please keep your tongue inside your body at all times, Marco. You know the rules of the bus,” Jogi sighed, completely worn out.

“That’s a real thing? I thought he was fucking with me,” Marco laughed, staring at Manu and Mats, who were now sickeningly curled around each other.

“Oh, no. We did, in fact, walk in on members of the team engaging in a very rough and passionate make out session. I want a pay raise just for repeating that sentence,” Jogi muttered.

“And I want bleach,” Mats gagged as Manuel dug his fingers in his dark hair.


	59. Sergio Ramos/Gerard Pique(others)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is part two of the drinking fic tags was requested by teresa_ngx.
> 
> Drinking games  
> Fluff  
> Established relationships  
> Geri/Sergio  
> Leo/Cris  
> Neymar/James  
> Toni/Manuel.
> 
> One epic bromance between Luis and Gareth.  
> Plus, Celo and Toni have a friendship to be reckoned with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing this chapter.
> 
> Announcement: To everybody that's reading this, I just want to thank you so much. I've had a really bad month, well it's been a lot longer than that but this month has been really bad. But writing haskills helped me with it, but seeing your words of encouragement or kudos has really helped. So thank , from the bottom of my heart, thank you all.

“Ney, why do you have so much alcohol? Are you trying to poison everybody?” Marcelo called as he brought a bottle of white rum into the living room.

“I mean, it’s not that much. You should have seen the Olympics,” Neymar shrugged as he scratched Poker.

“I’d say you had fun. I’m assuming Leo brought over the kale stuff?” James asked as he rested his head on the Brazilian’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s weird. Leo is never quiet about anything, but he looked so nervous about that - it was adorable, really. Not as cute as you, though, Hammie.” Neymar pecked the side of his cheek.

“I should hope not. Now, come on, we have about twenty minutes before they start coming, or rather, arrive together because our unlikely duo are bringing Toni,” James quipped.

The unlikely duo in question was Luis and Gareth, who had stuck up a formidable bond, mainly by taking the piss out of everybody with Toni joining in via the groupchat they now had. They were breaking all sorts of boundaries, and it was spectacular.

Sure enough, they all arrived on time, probably just because they wanted to see Poker, because who didn’t love that dog? They all sat around in a circle similar to the night in Sergio’s house, except now Leo and Cris were joined at the hip, meaning that Toni was sitting between Luis and Gareth. Poker was lying on the sofa, breathing down Neymar’s neck.

“What’s foretold for tonight?” Leo wondered.

“Maybe an intervention to stop you from looking like a cola bottle again?” Cris muttered.

“I think the lovely couple is having a bit of a domestic. And I think his looked better than Ney’s noodle head,” Marcelo shrugged.

“What is this? ‘Pick on Barcelona people’ day?” Geri pouted.

“I think we’re all in agreement that you could wear nothing but lime green and still pull it off. Now, you can’t give out to us because Madrid players have a sense of style,” Sergio smirked.

“Oh, look, the weird Spanish foreplay is back,” Gareth shivered.

“Alright, Ramos, so what do you call all of those hairstyles through the years? Or that thing on the top of Gareth’s head? And Marcelo? Sideshow Bob wants his barber back. Toni and James are fine, though - the class oozes out of them. I don’t know where they get it from, it’s not you lot,” Geri said with a hint of disdain.

“What about Cris?” Luis wondered.

“I mean, hairline isn’t the greatest. But that statue! Plus, who gets an airport named after them? ‘Oh, yeah, I’m coming into Cristiano Ronaldo?’ Even Leo doesn’t get to say that!” Geri howled, and the room erupted into laughter.

Once everybody had settled down and Leo had assured Cris that yes, his hair was perfectly fine, Neymar announced the game to be played.

“It’s called ‘Most Likely To.’ Marcelo, please explain the rules,” Neymar requested.

“Alright. So everybody is going to write down one thing and put it into this bowl. Once that is done, a nominated person will pick them out one at a time. You have to take a shot of whatever drink you wish for however many people are pointing at you. For example, ‘Most likely to score in El Clásico.’ So Leo would have four shots, and Cris would have to take four, and Sergio would take one. Cris, you get to take shots of tomato juice instead; you had fun with your smoothies. Understand?” Marcelo said in a very flight attendant way.

“We sure do. Everybody write down your things and place them in the bowl. Who’s reading them?” Gareth wondered as he placed his in the bowl.

“I’ll do it,” Neymar grinned as he took the bowl. “Most likely to have the weirdest kink in the bedroom.”

The fingers were pointing in every direction for this one. Luis had two, Marcelo and Gareth, much to his chagrin. Sergio was pointing at James, while Geri, James, Toni and Luis pointed at Leo. Marcelo was pointing to Cris.

“I hate all of you, every single one of you,” Leo whined as he put the shot glass back on the table.

“Most likely to have a fantasy about a manager - what is with y’all motherfuckers and sex?” Neymar asked as the vodka pooled in his stomach because apparently Gareth thought he’d like that particular fantasy.

The majority of the votes went to James, then some went to Toni.

“We know what your national manager does with those hands,” Marcelo teased.

“Okay, Celo.”

“Most likely to be arrested for public nudity? Who the fuck?!”

Straight away Toni was pointing to Gareth, as were Marcelo, James and Sergio. What did they know? Geri was pointing at Sergio, while Neymar pointed at Leo. Leo and Cris pointed at Luis, who was also pointing at the Welshman.

“This is actually going to kill somebody,” Gareth grumbled as he polished off the fifth shot of rum.

Beside him, Toni shrugged. Usually there would be some quick remark from the German, but that hadn’t been the case for the last few days. Gareth was determined to get to the bottom of it, even if he had to use underhanded tactics.

“Most likely to get sent off in a World Cup final?”

Nearly everyone pointed to Sergio, causing the defender to mutter about how disloyal Gerard was. Gareth pointed to Luis.

“You’d either turn into a goalkeeper or get hungry,” Gareth laughed before Luis cracked a grin.

“You pointed at me. Imagine if we both got sent off, leaving De Gea there. We’d get the silver.”

“Most likely to portray a mob boss?”

Geri, Sergio, Leo and Neymar seemed to agree that Cris gagging on apple juice was the best part of their day, while Marcelo, James and Gareth pointed to Toni, who was beyond fucked at this point. Luis was pointing at Gareth for obvious reasons.

“Most likely to break down in tears for no reason.”

The fingers were pointing to Marcelo, James and Neymar. James had the majority and was cursing them all as he drank, squeezing his eyes closed at the burn.

“Most likely to have the best managerial career.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, but I’m within this much of collapsing. Neymar, can I have your dog?” Toni wondered as he took four shots.

Before Neymar could speak, Poker was shouldering past Luis and sniffing at Toni. The dog lay at his feet.

“He likes me,” Toni grinned triumphantly as he carded his fingers through the white fur.

“You two just have something in common,” Neymar shrugged.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Both of you like German sausage, except you like both types…” Neymar frowned when he saw Marcelo making frantic cut-throat signs.

Toni stumbled to his feet rather comically and went for the back door, Poker following behind him.

“No, you idiota - he isn’t getting the German sausage because his broken boyfriend is being a knob,” Marcelo explained.

“Oh, fuck. I’ll be back in a minute. Order pizza,” Neymar muttered as he used James to get himself up.

Toni was out at the back door, and Poker was running around like a crazy thing. Toni had his phone out and was tempted to call Manu to fix things.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Neymar apologised as he clasped a hand on Toni’s shoulder.

“It’s fine. Nobody did, except for Celo. I just don’t know what to do,” Toni admitted.

“Come back inside, they’re getting dinner. And then, if you want, with perhaps some of the most dysfunctional couples in Spain, we can help? I mean, I owe you,” Neymar grinned.

“You do?”

“James never told you? You’re the entire reason we’re together - if you hadn’t convinced him to come here that night, we probably never would have gotten together. So, thank you…but you can’t have Poker.”

“But he’s just so cute and big and huggable,” Toni pouted.

“I wish I had a camera. Come inside before you freeze. Poker?”

Poker trotted in behind them before he made himself comfortable on the sofa again. While they were waiting for the pizza, Sergio and Geri started arguing about who was better looking, leading to Geri sitting on the older man and kissing him to shut him up. Leo and Cris were sitting and talking in hushed whispers, while Toni was spread out on top of Gareth and Luis, much to the disdain of the striker who had to support his head as the blond muttered random sentences in German.

“I drink with lightweights, honey, lightweights.” Marcelo rolled his eyes before James and Neymar came through the door carrying boxes that they really shouldn’t have had.

“Wake up, Kroos. We’re about to plot how to save your relationship, the least you can do is sit up,” Luis grumbled.

Toni cursed in German repeatedly before he set his eyes on the pizza – food! Thankfully for him, Sergio and Geri had stopped making out.

“So, I mean, why exactly is he angry at you? Is it about the Champions League?” Leo wondered.

“Yes and no. He basically told me to get myself fucked and that he hopes he never sees me again. There was a wee bit of fighting before that.” Toni rubbed at his neck

“Like, what level fighting? James and Ney, or Sergio and Geri post-Clásico?” the Argentine enquired.

“The second one. I don’t even remember what was said, but I haven’t spoken to him since then. I think it was something to do with fucking another person? Fuck knows what goes on inside Manu’s head,” Toni muttered as he munched on the chips.

“Call him now. He’s going to see a very angry Celo. You do not accuse your partner of cheating and then not answer them. It’s been, like, two months.” Marcelo held his hand out for the phone.

Toni handed over the phone. The whole thing felt weird, or maybe that was the mixture of drinks burning in his stomach.

“Cabrón, answer your motherfucking phone, Neuer,” Marcelo growled before he rather aggressively bit into his pizza.

Marcelo then took out his own phone and copied the number. Manuel answered.

“Hello, is this the world’s best goalkeeper? Yeah, I’m calling at the behest of the world’s best freaking playmaker… So if you don’t answer your phone, I’m going to fly over to Munich and find where you live, and I’ll be very angry for more reasons than one, because I don’t like going to voicemail,” Marcelo snapped before he hung up.

“I thought he wasn’t drunk?” Luis said to the German.

“He’s not.”

“So if everybody would leave this number a similar message saying that he’s a very rude person, here you go,” Marcelo smirked before he announced the number.

Sergio and Geri both left a message, although good look trying to understand it, because it was more “we’re making you feel uncomfortable because we’re making you think we’re a sex line” than threatening.

Half an hour and two shots of vodka later, Toni’s phone stated ringing on the table. Marcelo was the first to reach it.

“Somebody get me Google Translate, he’s speaking German. Excuse me, could you speak English, please? Thank you. Now, before I give this phone over to Toni, I want to know why you are such an idiot and why you didn’t answer your phone?...Oh, I see. Very well. Alright, then.” Marcelo had a face that said, ‘I’ve just fucked up.’

“Toni? You want to tell me why I have a couple of missed calls from an angry Brazilian, not to mention one from Ramos?”

“Cause you’ve been a prick.” The giggles erupted from various mouths in the room. “You really have.”

“And you’ve been drinking. So talk to me when you’re sober - you, nobody else.”

“Don’t you dare hang up this phone, Manuel Peter Neuer. You listen to me now. I don’t care how, find a way to be in Madrid tomorrow - if you’re not, fuck you,” Toni sighed before he hung up.

“So many complicated relationships,” Luis shrugged.

“You know, this kind of reminds me of that time with Cesc and Iker,” Geri announced as he wrapped his arms around Sergio, pulling him closer.

“Do tell,” Toni requested as he poured some vodka and redbull into a glass; apparently that was what everybody around him was drinking.

“So me and Geri had been going out for a few months, but honestly, how long had we been fucking? A year or two? Anyway, only Iker knew out of everybody, because you don’t lie to Iker - it’s impossible. He’s like that cuddly grandfather.”

“Wait. So you never fucked Casillas? Seriously?” Neymar was choking beside James.

“No, that’s like you and Marcelo. How many of you thought I fucked Iker?” Sergio wondered. Nobody did anything.

“I’ll rephrase for him. How many of you thought Iker fucked him?” And all the hands shot up. “Nope, it’s only me.”

“Anyway, Iker and Cesc: now if you don’t know about this, there is something wrong with you. Cesc was getting whiney that Iker was spending so much time with me - kind of what happens but alright, Cesc. Anyway, Cesc made a big deal at training one day accusing me and Iker of being cheats - I know, real nice of him - but then a bird shat on him. Then we announced that we were together. Which was he more embarrassed about, the bird shit in his hair or the meltdown?” Sergio chuckled. The others in the room stared open-mouthed.

“You say the Germans are weird - all we do is play Fifa and fuck,” Toni muttered.

“He has a point, Sergio. I think the Spanish are weirder,” Marcelo spluttered.

“If you ask me, you all have weird national teams - do you not just go and play football?” Leo raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, Mr. ‘I have superstars follow me around with mate and I also don’t let certain people onto the team because I don’t like them.’ What is this schoolyard stuff?” Luis smirked. “I have the most normal team.”

“Excuse me, have you all forgotten that Brazil is the only team here that’s qualified? I’ll see you all in Russia,” Neymar grinned as he and Marcelo fist bumped.

Somehow, despite the copious amounts of alcohol consumed that night, they all managed to wake up the next day - although they didn’t exactly feel alive, except for Toni who only had a slight headache.

“You should be dead,” Neymar whined.

“You should have seen the party we had after winning the World Cup: two full days, nobody slept and everybody drank. Drunk Jogi is the best Jogi. I’ll clean up here for you,” Toni offered.

“You don’t have to.” Neymar looked down and saw that it was James pulling him.

Like, they hadn’t even bothered to move from where they were sitting last night – they’d just dropped off.

“I think Celo’s in the kitchen cooking with Cris.”

“Food will be brilliant”, Neymar muttered before he dropped his head on the pillow.

And it was done. They’d wait to see when they were all free next for the one at Gareth’s.


	60. Dries Mertens/Jan Vertonghen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff  
> Established relationship  
> Puppy fic?  
> Eden and Kevin are together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Eafay70 for betaing

“You’re beautiful, so beautiful,” Jan grinned when Dries opened the door, an eyebrow raised at all of the bags Jan had.

“I know. Why do you have so much stuff? And why is that bag moving?” Dries wondered.

“I love you…eh, when I went to think, I found a dog?” Jan admitted as he walked over to the bed, he set down the bags and proudly showed off the stray.

“Why the fuck do you have a dog? We are in a hotel on international break, Jan, we can’t keep it”, Dries muttered.

“It’s a him, actually. What did you want me to do? Leave it out there to freeze and starve?”, Jan asked.

“What are you going to do with him?”.

“We, are going to wash him and feed him and play with him. So can you go put some water in the bath, please?” Jan requested as he combed his fingers through the sand-filled fur. He probably should have put a towel.

“If he has fleas I’ll kill you. I’m not getting fleas”, Dries snapped before he went into the bathroom.

“You’re a flea, Mertens”, Jan retorted.

The dog, or puppy, lay in his arms until it scrambled down and ran out the opened door, scampering down the hallway.

“Shit, Dries, puppy escape”,Jan shouted.

“This is why we can’t have nice things you idiot. Go get the puppy,” Dries muttered.

The two of them started knocking on doors, working their way down the corridor until they found Kevin.

“Are you two looking for a dog?” the younger man wondered.

“No, why would you ask that?” Dries laughed. Jan shot him a look.

“Because Eden found one outside of your room, now we can’t do anything because he thinks it’s a cutie,” Kevin muttered as he opened his door to allow the older men inside.

“Kev? Did you get him the food?” Eden questioned, his fingers buried in the dog’s fur as it lay on the bed beside him.

“Can I have the dog back, please?” Jan muttered.

“No”, Eden grumbled.

“Yes”, Kevin agreed.

“Kevin, what has he ever done to you? That’s not very nice. Look at him” Eden smiled.

“It’s in my bed Ed.”

“Well, if I take him I can wash him and feed him. And play with him” Jan grinned at the noise that escaped Dries.

“Come on then, doggy, let’s get you cleaned up a little bit before we find out who your owner is?” Eden cooed, scratching behind his ear.

The four of them set off back to Jan and Dries’ room, where the water in the bath had turned cold by now. Eden fixed that quickly.

“He’s very placid for a street dog,” Kevin muttered.

“But he’s very cute, aren’t you? Yes you are”, Jan whispered, scratching the doggy shampoo into the sand-filled fur.

“And here, we have Jan Vertonghen, in his natural habitat talking to a dog? Where the fuck did you steal a dog from Jan? The doggy nursery on floor 2?” Toby cackled as he walked in “You need to learn to close your door or he’s going to run”.

“Again”. Dries grumbled.

“You’re not a big fan, are you?” Thibaut frowned, “He’s cute”.

“He doesn’t like the fact that he’s not the only puppy in my life at the moment,” Jan supplied. “I’ve a habit of picking up strays.”

Rivets of laughter erupted in the bathroom as Jan gently lifted the dog onto the towel that Eden had laid down and the two of them got to work patting him dry.

“Seriously though, did you steal him from the doggy nursery?” Thibaut questioned.

“No, I found him wandering around the side of the hotel. I went to the shop across the street and I bought a few bits, before we hand him back over to the hotel”.

“Why do I have a feeling that if this happened in London, every time I that I vist I’d have a strange dog staring at me?”, Eden whispered.

“Because you would”, Jan admitted.

It took another half an hour to dry the dog. Once he was dry he bounded happily into the room, nosing at the food that Toby had put in a little container along with water. From there they kept him on the bed, scratching him and playing.

“Do you think we should bring him down?”, Eden sighed regretfully as he played with Kevin’s fingers, Kevin knew he wanted to keep the dog.

“I think that would be best,” Thibaut frowned, patting his teammate on the shoulder as the six of them left the room, the dog nestled nicely in Jan’s arms.

Now, down at the front desk there was a bit of a commotion – a very interesting commotion.

“Please, just find my dog. The lead snapped and he scampered”, the woman repeated again and again.

At the sound of her voice, the dog leapt out of Jan’s arms and crashed right into the woman, yapping excitedly at her heels.

“You robbed her fucking dog. That has to be as good as you knocking out a child,” Dries laughed, clutching onto Eden, who was also red in the face.

Let’s just say, it was very funny watching Jan explain what he’d done with the woman’s dog for the last few hours, but the woman was just grateful to have her dog back.

“No more finding strays on the street, alright?” Dries muttered before Jan kissed the top of his head. Everybody in the elevator held a similar position.

“I’ll make an exception for you, then yeah? My flouncy, tricky, feisty Dries.”

“That sounds perfect”.

“Oldies, stop being romantic, it’s disgusting”. Eden shivered.

"Did I mention he was covered in sand? If not, have fun sleeping in sand”, Dries grumbled before he and Jan went into their room.

"I'm sorry about the dog”, Jan mumbled before he kissed Dries.

"It's fine”, Dries conceded. “Love you”.

"Love you too”, Jan grinned, kissing his hair again.


	61. Toby Alderweireld/Vincent Janssen/Harry Winks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arguing  
> Established relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by you know who.
> 
> The pairing was also given to me by OllyOpposum.

Toby was at his wits’ end because of Vincent and Harry. The two of them just wouldn’t stop nitpicking at each other over the last few weeks, and it was leaving Toby stuck in the middle, with no real way to do anything apart from telling them to stop, because they wouldn’t tell them why they were fighting.

“You got it rough, Toby”, Mousa shook his head, patting the defender on the shoulder. “They’ve just nearly killed each other in the locker room. Not even the good kind of kill that leads to mind-blowing sex afterwards”.

“Moose, leave the poor child alone – you’re almost as good as Dele trying to be Morgan Freeman”, Jan rolled his eyes.

“I was mentioned? And here we have three Belgians in an international huddle, because they might as well be penguins”. Dele narrowed his eyes before he was dragged of by Kieran, Kevin and Sonny.

“I love him like a brother, but I also hate him. We are not penguins”, Mousa whined.

“We have two penguins – anyway, problem at hand. You’re going to have to fix it before Poch gets an idea, then y’all fucked”, Jan sighed.

“Well, he’s pointing and walking over here. I probably only have one boyfriend, who’ll be in prison for murder”, Toby said dramatically.

“Toby, can I talk to you for a minute?”, Poch requested. Toby followed him until the manager came to a stop.

“Where’s Vincent and Harry? I’m going to assume it’s about them”.

“Correct. Now, we really don’t care what everybody gets up to in their personal lives, and sometimes personal lives spill over into work lives”. Poch was pointing to where Hugo and Eric were curled around each other. “But, when the impact is as negative as it has been between Harry and Vincent over the past few weeks, something has to happen”.

“What? What do you mean, has to happen?”.

“It’s nowhere near as drastic as what’s going through your head, I promise you that. But, it does need to be sorted out soon. I can’t have the two of them killing each other, and neither of them seemed to want to talk. So I’m here”.

“I’d tell you if I knew. I’m as in the dark as everybody else here”, Toby admitted.

“Well, find a way to fix it. Or you’ll be having a lot more chats with me. Go – the both of them are down in the locker room. Let’s hope it’s not a crime scene”, Poch grinned. “Go home and sort that mess out, because two weeks is two long for everybody”.

“Thank you, I’ll fix it. Hopefully”, Toby muttered.

“That’s all you can do. Hugo? Could you maybe get in the goal? That would be lovely”, Poch called out.

Toby walked along, preparing himself for the shouting match he’d grown accustomed to from the two younger men. Instead, they were sitting across from each other, staring intently.

“We’re going home”, Toby announced, casing two heads to snap in his direction. “Do you think the two of you can make it in the car? Lord knows you didn’t this morning”.

“Fine”, Harry grumbled.

“You two...the two of you are idiots, and you better sort this out today, understand?”, Toby muttered as he got his stuff.

The car was fun. First of all, there was a fight about who was sitting where – like children, was all Toby muttered. Then, Vincent passed a small comment about something, and Harry flew off the handle as he got out of the car.

“I’m sick to the fucking teeth of you and your cunting insults, do you understand? You’re not fucking better, Vincent – just fuck you, you wanker. You’re a prick, an undeniable prickly prick. I hope there’s lots of cutlery for you to fall on in the Netherlands. So do me a favour and fuck off, the both of you, go be happy together!”, Harry shouted before he unlocked the door. When he realised he wasn’t getting a response, he turned his head. “What? Not going to fight because Toby’s here?”.

Toby stood there leaning against the car, unable to fathom what the actual fuck had just happened in front of him. Harry was gone, probably storming off to a guest room or stealing Toby’s bed. But a pained sob ripped Toby from his thoughts. He turned on his heel, his heart shattering at the sight of Vincent.

“Come inside – you’re not going to cry in the garden, are you?”, Toby smiled as he slipped his arm around the younger man, kissing his forehead as silent tears slipped from his eyes.

They settled on the sofa, Vincent curled around Toby. The Belgian was whispering words of comfort in Dutch and English; he just wanted to keep Vincent calm.

“He doesn’t want me here, Tobe, he hates me”, Vincent whispered.

“Vince, he’s angry. It doesn’t nearly excuse what the two of you have done to each other for the past two weeks. But, we need to talk this out, fix it before we end up having to try and fix ourselves”. Toby kissed his hair.

“You want a lap full of crying Dutchman?”.

“No, but I’m always up for a lapful of Vincent. How about this: I’ll go up and see if Harry will talk, I’ll get in the shower and then we’ll talk?”.

“Okay. Toby?”, Vincent was staring up at him now. “I love you”.

“I love you, too, Vincent”, Toby smiled, dropping a kiss to his forehead before he went upstairs.

Toby opened his bedroom door last. Sure enough, there was a little burrito that contained Harry Winks.

“If you’re here to give out to me, go away”, Harry muttered.

“Nope. We are going to sort this out like adults, rather than the children the two of you have been acting like – you’re as bad as each other. That’s all I’ve come to say. I’m going for a shower, so you better be unwrapped by the time I’m finished”, Toby warned him before kissing the top of his head. “Love you”.

“I love you, too, Toby. Go, you really do need a shower”, Harry grinned.

When Toby finally waked into the living room, Vincent and Harry were facing each other, staring. At least they weren’t screaming.

“First of all, do either of you want to tell me what has happened over last two weeks?”, Toby requested.

“What’s the saying that you always say when it comes to relationships, Toby?”, Harry wondered.

“They’re a lot of work?”.

“He’s talking about the whole ‘if you love the first person, you wouldn’t fall for the second, so choose them.’ Harry, what the fuck does that have to do with anything?”, Vincent asked.

Then Toby put it together.

“It doesn’t apply to this case; like everything, it has parameters. You two have been fighting like cats and dogs because you’re jealous of each other?”, Toby wondered.

“More like the fact that you love Vincent, Vincent loves you, you love me and I love Vincent and you. You see the problem here?”, Harry smiled sadly.

Toby was going to speak, but Vincent beat him to it.

“You’re a thick prick. How could you think I don’t love you? How?”, Vincent sounded so hurt.

“I have one, thank you very much. I dunno, Vinny, I just…”, Harry shrugged.

“Harry, anybody can see that he worships the ground you walk on. Trying to say that Vincent Janssen doesn’t love you, is like saying we don’t need water to live. It’s a lie”, Toby smiled.

“When I came here, you were everything I needed. I still need you, Harry”, Vincent promised as he slid beside the younger man. “I love you”.

“I’m sorry, about everything. I didn’t mean any of it, I just…I couldn’t lose both of you”, Harry whispered before Toby came around the other side, kissing the top of his head.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry, too. We both said twatish things”. Vincent kissed him softly, their noses bumping together when they pulled away.

“So? Are we done here?”, Toby wondered, hoping that the answer was yes. He just wanted to see them happy, and right now they were back to their old selves.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be just fine. Thanks to you”, Vincent grinned, kissing Toby.

“Always happy to help my beautiful people. I love the both of you, the both of you love each other, understand?”.

“And we both love you”, Harry reiterated. “That part was never in doubt”.

“Poch was helpful, too, not just with the chat thing”, Vincent shivered.

Toby chuckled to himself before he kissed both of them. What would he do without them?

Mauricio was surprised to find a box of chocolates on his desk the next morning. The note on it read:

‘Thanks for all your help, even if you did threaten them with some underhand tactics. It worked, I’m not complaining. Enjoy some of Belgium’s finest from your best-looking Belgian’.

“That’s weird, I don’t remember helping Jan”, Poch said to Toby. “Chocolates are nice”.

“If you want to keep them, you better take that back”, Toby threatened.

“Don’t hold a man’s chocolate hostage, Alderweireld”.

“There is no way that that, is better than this”. Toby was pointing to Jan, whose face clearly stated, ‘Don’t come near me, I’ve forgotten to drink about ten cups of coffee this morning.’

“I mean, I always thought he was good looking – you Belgians need to stop reproducing”, Harry smirked, before he pouted from being used as an armrest for Vincent.

“Shouldn’t you be training, Toby? You know, what everybody else is doing?”, Vincent raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve been having a very important tactical talk”.

“About chocolate”, Harry grinned.

“Very nice chocolate. Go, you all have to run the assault course now”, Poch smirked, pointing to the beginning of it..

“Thank you”, Toby said.

“My pleasure, Toby”.


	62. Toni Kroos/Manuel Neuer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fix it to the events of my drunken fic with various Barca and Madrid players.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see everybody wanting to read this one and honestly I hope it lives up to expectations. 
> 
> Now, my exams start in 2 days, lucky me, so the uploades will be slower and for anybody who I haven't written your request for yet, I'll do it when I'm finished with my exams. Sorry if I'm disappointing you. To anybody doing exams, you'll be fine and good luck. 
> 
> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing this fic for me, you're the best.

When Toni got back to Madrid, there was no denying that he felt anxious. He was probably going home to break up with his boyfriend of a very long time; while they’d been in a stable and committed relationship for the past five years, they’d been going at it longer than that. Marcelo picked up on it instantly, and being the giant ball of happy and positive energy that he was, he set out on trying to cheer up Toni. But here he was, afraid to go into his own home because he didn’t want to be left on his own. He honestly didn’t know what this entire thing had been over, but he’d find out. Toni turned the key in the door before stepping inside. He heard the TV going in the living room, and he braced himself for whatever was coming – on both sides.

“Hey, Manu”, Toni smiled as he sat opposite the goalkeeper.

“No crazy Brazilian? Or two creepy Spaniards to come and fight for you?”, Manuel raised an eyebrow.

“Manu, I want to talk about this like civilised people. You’re meant to be the grown-up in this relationship, and you’re acting like a child”, Toni sighed.

“This relationship? Toni, you’ve done about as much damage as I have”, Manuel informed him.

“Do you want to tell me what this entire fight was about, Manu? Two fucking months, I’ve been an idiot – I’ve sat by that phone and waited for you to call me or text, you did neither. Is this the end of the road? Because if it is, I’d like to know what caused it”, Toni snapped.

“In those two months, you didn’t think to pick up the phone and call me? Or text me? Or come to Munich? No, I didn’t think so, Toni. This entire thing was about the two of us not being able to trust each other anymore because we don’t see each other. How many times have you thought that I’d gone off with somebody else? Do you know how hurtful that is? And yeah, instead of being the grown-up, I decided to punch you in the gut and be a dick about it. I’m being killed by Thomas, Mats, Josh and nearly every other person possible because of this. But ask yourself, Toni: Why didn’t you try to change anything? Why did you wait for me to come running to you? Because I’m not going to do it anymore: it’s fifty-fifty, not thirty-seventy”, Manuel pointed out, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

“What do you mean? Manuel, you straight up accused me of fucking half of the team one day?! Like, I don’t even understand what I’m meant to even do to convince you otherwise. How many ‘I love you’s’ have we said to each other? Did they mean nothing to you?”, Toni swallowed.

“I lashed out at you that night because you hadn’t spoken to me in a week – you’d read my messages, but you’d ignore my calls. You know me, Toni: I can’t do anything without you. I need you there with me, even if you’re here. I just…I don’t know how much longer we can keep going like this. We’re tearing each other apart and barely patching each other back together. It took the intervention of both your teammates and Barcelona – not even Marc, just normal Barca players – for you to do something about this. How do you think I felt? You’re not the only person that sat by the phone. I’d fallen asleep after taking painkillers for this thing, and I’d left it on silent. That’s why I didn’t answer it”.

Toni took a minute to process all of the information that was running through his head. He hadn’t even asked Manu how he was – he really was a horrible person. He got up from the sofa and sat beside Manu, cuddling into his side, as though his body heat would somehow fix all of this the way it used to.

“I’m a horrible person, I haven’t even asked how you are”, Toni whispered.

“No, you’re not, Tone. We’re both just stubborn old men when it comes to this, but it can’t go on. I love you, I always have. Since the first time I saw you, I loved you. You don’t know the effect that smile has on people; it is just pure you. Right now, that’s something I need. I realise how idiotic I was, but you need to understand how stupid I’d have to be to cheat on you. I love you, I’ve bled for you – I’ve cried for you, a lot more than I care to admit, but that just shows how much you mean to me. So, where do we go? I can walk out that door, and you can go about finding your happy ever after, and I won’t come between you and it – or we stick together and we work”, Manuel promised as a few tears collected along Toni’s lash line.

“I don’t have to go anywhere for my happy ever after; it’s right in front of me. As much as you need me to keep going, I need you more, Manu. These last two months have been hell on earth. I can’t lose you. Do you know the effect you have? You might be stubborn, but you’ve brought me up with you – you’ve held me up on the worst days of my life and been there at my side on the best. Who else could possibly measure up to you? We’re going to find a way that works for the both of us…but you’re going to sleep first, you look exhausted. I love you too much. Losing you would be like losing a lung, that’s how much I need you”, Toni smiled before he dragged his thumb over Manuel’s lips.

Manuel grabbed his hand before he pressed a little kiss to each knuckle, moving his head forward until it was resting on Toni’s shoulder.

“There’s a better position than this”, Toni whispered before they shifted.

Toni was sitting in the corner, a pillow on his lap for Manu to rest his head on. The older man was lying flat on his back, his booted foot on top of a cushion. Toni couldn’t help but map out the creases on his forehead with feather-light touches as Manuel fell asleep.

To Marcelo12: I still have a boyfriend.

It took a few minutes before the reply came in.

From Marcelo12: In that case tell him I’m sorry about the phone call, but if he hurts you, he’ll have a thousand.

To Marcelo12: Apparently, I too, was a prick.

From Marcelo12: Shit Toni, really? You don’t seem like the type to be all rude and things.

To Marcelo12: I’m just saying, we’ve accepted it. I’m telling you so I can thank you for helping me. I needed it. I can always count on you Celo.

From Marcelo12: Obviously, I’m like the mother of Madrid. Let me know how it goes with the goalie. Gareth and Sergio are here.

To Marcelo12: Tell them I said they are idotas, bye Celo.

With that, Toni dropped his phone to the side, only for it to buzz randomly. Toni couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped his lips. Marcelo might be the mother of Madrid, but Thomas was the mother of Munich, and he was the best when it came to dealing with Toni and Manuel.

“I love you, you’re never getting rid of me”, Toni whispered, pressing a kiss to the goalkeeper’s hair as he took a picture for Thomas.


	63. Julian Draxler/Max Meyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just porn, poem to celebrate the end of exams. Let's assume .that this happenedition when they met for dinner last night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing.this for me

“Jules, what’s wrong?”, Max wondered, his lips on the side of older man’s neck.

Julian hummed before he pressed a kiss to the side of his dirty blond hair. Max frowned when he felt the older man’s hand tighten around his hip, digging into the black fabric of the suit.

“Julian”, Max whispered.

“Leon is staring at you. I like him the majority of the time, but not when he stares at you”, Julian mumbled, his lips running along Max’s hairline.

“I can imagine the little staredown you two are having. Are you done with staring at him?”, Max sighed before he got onto his tippy-toes to kiss Julian softly. “Love you”.

Julian didn’t respond; instead, he kissed the shorter man. At this moment in time, he was very thankful that there were no reporters in the function room.

“PG, Draxler, Meyer”, Jogi muttered as he passed by.

“Why don’t we stick an S in there and have ourselves a brand new club?”, Julian chuckled. Max shook his head.

 

“You’re an idiot”.

“An idiot that’s going to get you a drink”, Julian pointed out.

“I’ll keep you around, in that case”, Max grinned, slipping an arm around his boyfriend’s waist as they walked over to the bar.

Max rolled his eyes at the two tall men in front of him. They were staring at each other, their shoulders back and their necks raised.

 

“Jules, Leon, stop being knobs”, Max muttered, sinking into Julian’s side.

“He looks at you too much”, Julian whined.

“Yeah, whatever. If anything, I’m judging the height difference – like, actually I don’t even wanna know anything”. Leon shivered, and Max smirked.

 

“You see what I mean? Maybe we should just leave him here, and we should go back to our room”, Julian whispered in Max’s ear, pressing his lips to the younger man’s neck.

 

“Another part of my case: you two never stop”, Leon rolled his eyes as Max curled his fingers around Julian’s.

 

“Fucking?”, Max supplied, and Leon rolled his eyes again. “You should try it sometime, you’d probably be less of a creeper”.

 

“My sex life is completely fine, Max”. Leon’s jaw dropped, and Julian spluttered.

 

“Then why are you standing here instead of over with your sweetheart? Leroy is sitting there, and you’re sitting here. We’re going to go to bed now, so try to not be your usual self, okay?”, Max grinned before he patted his shoulder.

“I thought we were getting drinks?”, Julian whispered as they walked out of the room, bidding good night to their teammates.

“I’ve a better idea”, Max smirked before he dragged Julian into the lift, smashing their lips together as he curled his fingers around Julian’s neck.

“I like that idea”, Julian whispered against Max’s lips before they broke apart.

They managed to keep their hands off of each other as they made their way to their room. Julian slid the key into the slot and opened the door with a click before he kicked it shut. Max was already ripping at his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, the jacket somewhere on the floor. Curse the need for these black tie events. Julian was toeing off his shoes and leaving a mess of clothes behind him before he pinned an equally naked Max to the mattress, their lips meeting in a wet clash of teeth and tongue.

Max was gasping as Julian sucked red marks into his collar bone, his teeth scraping against the pale skin. Max had his fingers buried in the dark silky hair before he dragged Julian back up to kiss him, his teeth sinking into the older man’s lip.

“Jules, please”, Max whined as Julian sat back on his haunches, a grin on his face.

“What?”, Julian wondered as he dragged his finger along Max’s body, before he wrapped a hand around his cock, giving it a few erratic jerks.

 

“Don’t tease me”, Max pouted before Julian kissed down his body and all along his cock before he kissed the tip.

“That’s the best part”, Julian disagreed before he took Max into his mouth.

A moan was ripped from the Schalke midfielder before he threaded his fingers through Julian’s hair. Julian hummed around Max, licking at the throbbing vein. Every time Max came close to the edge, Julian would stop and leave him for a few minutes, going back to feathering light kisses to his lips. Max’s eyes were red and tearing slightly; he had lost count of how many times he’d come close to orgasm. His cock was a dark purple colour, throbbing with a pain that sent splinters and shivers up the younger man’s body.

“Please, Jules, it’s too much”, Max pleaded.

“Soon, soon, Maxsi, then everything’s gonna be better. It always is, isn’t it?”, Julian whispered, kissing the side of his face.

The older man began whispering words of praise and encouragement into Max’s ear as he lubed up two of his fingers and pressed them into the younger man, spreading them wide. Max started cursing repeatedly as he thrashed his head from side to side, the overwhelming pressure inside of him too much too deal with.

“Julian, fuck me. No more of this, please”, Max begged, more tears glinting in his beautiful blue eyes as he held onto the edge of his orgasm.

“Okay, okay”, Julian smiled before he kissed Max softly. “You’ve been so good for me tonight, baby”.

Max mewled pathetically at the praise before he heard the cap of the lube snap and the foil tear over the blood rushing through his ears.

“You’re so pretty like this, Maxsi, I love it. I love you”, Julian whispered as he entered him slowly, dropping his forehead onto Max’s.

A silent scream was ripped from Max when the blunt head of Julian’s cock moved over his prostate, allowing the older man to drag him in for a dizzying kiss that made Max’s head spin even more as his fingers scratched up and down Julian’s broad back, leaving dark marks that would be painful in the morning. Max was babbling incoherently as Julian fucked into him softly, knowing not to push his limits too far.

“Jules, please, I can’t. I need to come, so long, it’s too much”, Max whimpered before Julian kissed his head.

“You wanna come like this? Begging for release? You’ve been so good all night. I don’t know how long we’ve been doing this, but you’ve been so good, Maxsi. It’s okay, I love you”, Julian whispered, knowing he, too, was nearing his own climax. But this wasn’t about him, it was about Max: it always was, and it always would be.

Those words always seemed to have an effect on the younger man, his body turned around Julian, milking the older man for all his worth as he kissed all around Max’s face, whispering encouraging words of love and praise. Julian ever so gently slipped out of him; if he was sensitive before, now he’d be even worse. He used one of the wipes beside them to clean up the both of them before he pulled Max into his arms, tutting at the younger man. He reached behind him and grabbed a bottle.

“Gotta drink something for me, Maxi”. Julian held the bottle of water to his lips, watching as Max’s throat bobbed.

“Thank you”, Max croaked, as though his voice hadn’t been used in years.

“Always. Go to sleep, Max. I love you”, Julian whispered into the younger man’s hair as he turned in to his radiating body.

“Love you, too. Night, Jules. Bring me home a gold won't you?", Max whispered, one hand resting on the small of Julian’s waist.

"Only if you bring one home too".

Julian stayed awake a little longer, admiring the beautiful man in his arms; he really was one of the luckiest men in the world. Finally, he settled down to sleep, not bothering to try to get the duvet from underneath them. Instead, he pulled the blanket from the bottom of the bed over them, even though Max was practically glued to him.


	64. Leo Messi/Neymar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure porn, enough the porn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing this and I hope the person who requested this enjoys it.

“I don’t know if I want to fuck you or punch you”, Neymar growled before he smashed his lips against Leo’s.

“Why so violent? Love is the answer”. Leo couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his parted lips before Neymar slotted a knee between his legs, grinding it up into the older man’s crotch.

“Alright, you little hippie – but why does Luis think you’re the top in this relationship?”, Neymar whispered, peppering kisses all along Leo’s neck, where the training jacket met beautiful skin.

“I wouldn’t know”, Leo lied – badly, Neymar decided.

“Is it because he can’t know that the best football player in the world is nothing more than a cockslut? We can’t tarnish your reputation, can we? The oh-so-quiet man…If only they knew what a demanding little slut you were in the bedroom, but they never will. That’s for my eyes only, only me – isn’t that right, Leo?”, Neymar smirked as the older man ground down into his leg.

“Ney, please”, Leo whined, moving his head to capture the younger man’s lips, before Neymar snuck a hand in his shorts, fondling with his hardening member as he took a step back.

“You better go shower, I’m waiting to go home”. Leo could sense the sexual threat in the air. “Or would you rather I bend you over and fuck you here? It’s only us now”.

Leo couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his lips at that prospect, answering by kissing Neymar. He felt the Brazilian smirking into the kiss before their tongues twisted around each other, fingers wandering over heated skin.

“I’ll take it as the second one? Good choice”, Neymar grinned, kissing him as he pulled him into the shower, watching as the older man ran his fingers over his now naked body.

“Leo, don’t be a knob, don’t tease”, Neymar pouted before he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving a very confused Leo.

When the younger man returned, he had a towel in his hand. Leo was just washing his hair, the remaining soap sliding down his body with the water. Once he was finished, the water was turned off and that thick tension returned.

“Come here”, Neymar grinned, beckoning him forward.

Leo walked into the towel, still slightly confused – he could do this part for himself. Then he felt Neymar pat with the towel, feathering his fingers over the hot skin, paying special attention to the small of his back, the bottom of his stomach and the tops of his legs. Every so often he’d brush against Leo, sending shivers down his spine; the only apology he got from the now kneeling Brazilian was little licks and sucks along his shaft. Neymar reached behind his back and grabbed the bottle of lube, squirting some over his fingers before he spread it around Leo’s opening, still licking the tip and driving Leo crazy. Little moans escaped the Argentine’s mouth as Neymar started to spread him wide on two fingers while he sucked him, jerking his throbbing cock every so often.

“Ney, come on”, Leo whined before Neymar ran his tongue along the leaking tip of his cock one last time.

“Are you that eager for me to fuck you? I’m going to take that as a compliment: the great Lionel Messi, my love. I love you”, Neymar promised, brushing his lips over Leo’s.

“I’d love you a whole lot more if you were in me”, Leo shrugged, not even having the decency to stop the quiver in his voice. “I love you, too, Ney”.

“Like this? Hands against the wall”, Neymar smirked, pushing him into the tiled wall, hearing the groan fall out of the older man’s mouth like music to his ears.

Leo nodded, trying to stop himself from shaking – and failing miserably. Neymar placed kisses all down the back of his neck as he lubed himself up and rolled on a condom, slowly pushing himself into Leo’s stretched hole, loving the way it felt quivering and spasming around him.

“Ney? You gonna just stand there?”, Leo mumbled as he pushed back into him.

Neymar’s response was to buck his hips, moving in and out of Leo, feeling the older man clench around him. He reached his hand around their bodies and slid it between Leo’s pulsing cock, twisting his wrist at a very awkward angle in the name of love. Neymar felt his orgasm rip out of him when Leo came, his body’s response perfect and out of this world; there was nothing that Neymar could do. He dropped his head against the older man’s shoulder before he slipped out.

“Love you”, Neymar breathed.

“Love you more. Can you stand without falling over and cracking your skull?”.

“We can’t all be you”, Neymar muttered, but nodded before he helped Leo move. He took off the condom and threw it into a bin before Leo wiped away his own come with the towel.

“Not my fault I like to take care of you. Just because you fuck me doesn’t mean anything”, Leo grinned, kissing the younger man’s forehead.

“Tis true, best person I could ask to take care of me”, Neymar agreed as they moved to pull on their clothes.

“Tis? Okay? Maybe you did crack that pretty little skull of yours”, Leo teased as he zipped up his jacket, bundles of energy inside of him.

“Haha, you’re driving so I can nap”, Neymar mumbled as he slipped his bag over his shoulder, doing a double check to make sure everything was fine.

“What’s wrong?”.

“I’m never going to be able to look at this place the same way. We’re not the first. Or the last”, Neymar shrugged.

Leo’s jaw dropped in horror, what?


	65. James Rodriguez fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was requested a long time a go but I hope it was worth the wait.

James left the party early. Deep in his heart he wanted to be there, surrounded by his teammates that he’d grown to love and adore, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t wanted anymore – no, he wasn’t needed anymore. So he slipped away after the pictures were taken with the trophy, his heart heavy in his chest and blood rushing around his body. The calm smiles he was sending to Toni and Marcelo were hurting so much that he thought he might break then and there, fall into them and beg them to want him, to keep him. He hadn’t seen Cris – he’d miss Cris a lot, probably the most out of all of them. But each of them held a special place in James’s heart. Each of them meant something different to the young Colombian captain. But, he felt this wasn’t his place anymore, so he left.

He found his car in the packed car park and got in it, the tears of frustration and sadness falling down his face as he rested his head on the steering wheel. He could still hear the party inside. A tiny sliver of him was screaming for him to go in and join it – that he belonged there, that he mattered to them, that they loved him and that he was needed. But the rest of his body won and he drove home, so thankful that he’d decided to stick to cola or Red Bull all night. The drive back to his house was torturous. James remembered the first time he’d met each of his teammates when he arrived from Monaco. He thought of the little family unit they’d formed since then: He thought of Marcelo and his mothering tendencies, and Sergio and his protectiveness. He remembered the first time he met Toni – the German was nervous and worried and constantly touching his hair, something he still did. He remembered that night in Milan a year ago when none of this was going through his head, when he was on top of the world and nothing could touch him because of the people he had around him…but now? Now he was going somewhere. He remembered the heartache when Alvaro left, the pain of watching what Isco had to go through. As James pulled up to his house, he realised that he didn’t want to do that to anybody; he couldn’t make them suffer along with him, even though they’d gladly take the weight off of his shoulders. So James walked into his house, his eyes red and painful, his face tight from the drying tears and his throat like razors before he collapsed on the sofa. There wasn’t anything he could do – all he could do was remember each of them, because the memories they made would last a lifetime.

 

“He left, didn’t he?”, Sergio whispered, carding his fingers though Toni’s hair.

“Yeah. Serge, we need to do something. I can’t see him like this, none of us can. What do you do when the sun goes out?”, Toni mumbled, looking into brown eyes, before there was a tap on his shoulder.

When he turned, he saw Cris, Alvaro, Marcelo, Isco and Gareth standing there. They, too, were looking as dejected as Toni felt. If one of the most important people to them wasn’t here with them, how could they be happy? So then Marcelo spoke.

“We make sure to light it back up. His house, tomorrow morning at ten? He’s our Hammie – we have to remind him of that”.

 

James woke up to the smell of cooking food and his head resting on Toni’s lap, the German’s fingers running through his dark hair.

“Morning, Hammie. I think you missed a party last night. But we’ll talk about that later – Cris and Serge have finished breakfast for us all”, Toni smiled.

“How did you get into my house?”, James wondered, sitting up slowly.

“We all know where the spare key is. Come on, I’m sure you’re starving”, Marcelo grinned from the other end of the sofa.

“Who is here?”.

“Me, Cris, Sergio, Toni, Alvaro, Isco and Gareth”, Marcelo answered as they walked into the kitchen, watching as the plates were filled with food.

They ate with normal conversation, shying away from such things as transfers, the match and party. James knew what this was about the second they finished washing the dishes: They led him into the sitting room and sat him down between Marcelo and Toni, the two people who would be there in case it got to be too much. Cris was the elected speaker, as it would be easier to hear these words from him – but these words weren’t easy at all.

“Hammie, why’d you leave the party last night?”, Cris wondered.

“I was tired”, James lied.

“Come on, James, can you tell us the truth? Maybe we can help?”, Cris smiled.

“You can’t, it’s done”, James snapped.

They all shared a look as Marcelo wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulder.

“It’s about the transfer? It’s about the game time? It’s about you not feeling wanted? James, is that what this is? If that’s it, please say yes; if it’s not, please tell me what it is”, Gareth begged. He couldn’t see the younger man like this, nobody could.

“You’re right. I’m not good enough for any of you, or the team. I didn’t deserve to be there last night, and that’s the last time I went to something where all of us would have been together. When am I going to get to see all of you again? What am I going to do without all of you?”, James whispered, willing himself to not cry but failing.

“Hammie, James. No, that’s wrong. I know that’s how you feel right now, but that’s not it. It’s wrong. We need you. Even if you didn’t play as much as you wanted to or as much as you should have, you kept our spirits going, you kept us up. You’re the sun, shining so bright and being so happy. When the sun goes out, everything gets cold and dark – that’s what it’s like when you’re not yourself”, Isco promised, moving over to hug the younger man.

“You’re just saying that”, James muttered into his embrace.

“No, no, he’s not. James, do you remember the first time we met? You were there making jokes and completely got rid of every nervous thought that was running through my head. We’ve all been through so much, but at the centre of it, the centre of fixing it was you”, Toni grinned and everybody was smiling, nodding their heads in agreement. James felt as though his heart was going to explode…did they really think this?

“I remember when I went to Juve and then came back – you were there, checking on me every step of the way, making sure that I was settling in and smuggling me chocolate across the border. I really appreciated that. How can we be happy with you being unhappy?”, Alvaro wondered, his brown eyes questioning as James made contact with the striker.

“Because I won’t be here with you next season”.

“You might not be in Madrid, but you’re a phone call away, a plane ride away – you’re still here. You’re the one that calls us during international to make sure we’re okay, Hammie: you’re the essence of good”, Gareth promised.

James didn’t know how to respond to what everybody was saying to him. He loved each of these people individually and for a specific reason. He just hadn’t known that they loved him for a specific reason, too.

“I don’t even know what I could say to you. You’ve been my partner in crime, pranking this sorry lot”, Marcelo whispered.

James feel smothered in the Brazilian’s hug, but it apparently gave everybody else an excuse to come over and join the hug. Each of them whispered to James reason why he was important to the team, why he mattered and what he meant to them. James realised that he was important to them, and that the future wasn’t so scary if he still had these guys beside him.

“We’re not going anywhere, James. If you go, it’s a phone call or a plane ride, both of which we all have access to”, Cris promised, kissing the top of his head. “I love you”.

“Love you, too, Cris”.

They spent the rest of the day together, the two of them that would be going to the Confed talking about the planning and their excitement, and the others planning their hotels and summers. It would be fine; even if they didn’t know what would happen, it would be fine. After all, they said James was the sun – and the sun will always rise, no matter how dark the night is.


	66. Gerard Pique/Sergio Ramos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For mariothellama, I hope you enjoy this. It got a bit more smutty than I planned.

“Sergio? Serge? Sergio Ramos, speak, would you?", Gerard growled.

The taller man was getting annoyed that Sergio wasn’t speaking to him. So what if he didn’t go to the final? He was busy.

“Go away”, Sergio muttered, burrowing his head into the pillow before he squealed when Gerard dragged him closer.

“I was busy. I was at Harvard – I have a degree now and it’s signed”, Gerard whispered, pressing a few wet kisses into his neck.

“I retained the Champions League and I was captain for both, and you weren’t there”, Sergio pointed out.

 

“Is Sese jealous? Think of it: Now that I have it out of the way, I can spend all the time with you. I love you”, Gerard smiled, his blue eyes meeting brown.

 

“I tolerate you, I suppose. We would have had an amazing party and then we would have had amazing sex. I would have let you do whatever you wanted to me, but you weren’t there – and that was a once in a lifetime opportunity, wasn’t it?”, Sergio smirked.

“What do you mean? For me to make you my slut? That happens every night, honey: on all fours, your stomach, or your back, when you’re riding me and I can control everything that happens to you. The gentle tugs on your cock? I control that”, Gerard whispered before he kissed Sergio, the tip of his tongue running over his lover’s lip.

Sergio felt a groan escape his lips as he was pulled on top of Gerard, the two of them kissing intensely as Sergio wrapped his fingers around Gerard’s soft dark hair, tugging it every so often.

 

“What do you say, champion, you wanna have some fun?”, Gerard kissed him again.

“I think I’m good, Geri, maybe sometime later. Oh, and you’ll be the slut today”, Sergio smirked before he moved away, with one final kiss that left Gerard’s head spinning.

They played their little game of cat and mouse for the rest of the day, each of them pinning each other against the kitchen counter and kissing the breath out of each other on the sofa as the lay on around all day. Then, after dinner, Sergio had Gerard on his back, the entire weight of the Madrid captain resting on his hips as they moved together.

 

“Okay, this time can I fuck you instead of us just hunting like teenagers? Please?”, Gerard moaned as Sergio kissed down his chest, breathing over the fabric of his trousers before he pulled off his pants.

 

“No, I know what I’ll do”, Sergio smirked before he kissed from the waistband up to Gerard’s neck, licking and sucking against the soft skin.

 

“Sergio”, Gerard warned, his fingers slipping into the older man’s hair before he yanked them back to his lips. “Stop teasing me before I pin you down and make you forget everything except my name”.

 

“What makes you think that I don’t want that? Maybe I want to be pinned against the sofa, my face pressed into the cushion and your hand on the back of my neck as you fuck into me”, Sergio grinned, his hand slipping into the fabric of the younger man’s boxers, running up and down the hardening length.

 

“Fuck, Sese, that mouth – why don’t you put those pretty lips to use?”, Geri mumbled before he moved to pull off his boxers, pushing his lover’s head down to his throbbing cock.

 

“You want these little pink lips wrapped around your cock? Do you want to ram the back of my throat and make tears prickle at the corners at of my eyes? Because that’s what I want”. Sergio looked up through thick lashes before he took the head of Geri’s cock in his mouth, swirling the tongue around the tip.

 

He felt fingers scrape at his scalp and force him down further until tears prickled at the sides of his brown eyes. Sergio pulled off with a pop and continued to lick the top of Gerard’s cock, lapping at the beads of pre-come as he jerked the length with his hand. Geri’s moans were breathy and loud, enough to spur Sergio on until the Madrid captain felt himself being pulled up. Gerard’s wet mouth was on his in a second as the taller man reached around and dragged his nails down the length of his back.

 

“Fuck me, Geri – pretend that it was that night. The night when you left me for a chunk of paper”, Sergio growled before Gerard fisted his cock, causing the older man to moan against his lips.

 

“You’re going to feel me everywhere in you, Sese, you’re going to love it so much”.

 

Gerard reached around the cushion and pulled out the travel-size bottle of lube that they kept there for situations such as these. The taller man kissed up the side of Sergio’s neck as he prepped his fingers, running the excess lube along Sergio’s opening. Slowly, he added a finger, teasing the rim slightly by just dipping into Sergio, before he started to curl his finger. Sergio moaned breathily into Gerard’s neck before Geri added in a second finger.

 

“Feel nice?”, Geri wondered, sucking a spot on Sergio’s neck.

 

“Good, it could be better”, Sergio mumbled before Gerard started to scissor his fingers, spreading his defiant lover open.

 

Sergio whined when he lost the feeling of Geri’s fingers inside of him; he missed having something to grind back on.

 

“Don’t get all pouty because you don’t have anything to fuck yourself against”, Gerard smirked.

 

Sergio’s response was to bite into his shoulder, claiming it was an accident, but Geri just shook his head and kissed him softly. Gerard used this time to coat his own throbbing cock with lube before he rolled on a condom, slowly pressing himself into Sergio, who was getting rather impatient.

 

“Hurry on and fuck me, Pique, his is not how you treat somebody who retains the Champions League!”, Sergio growled, taking action and sinking down on it further.

 

“Well, if you’d stop being such a brat and just let me take care of you properly”, Gerard raised an eyebrow before he moved his hips, feeling Sergio tighten around him as he ran the blunt head of his cock against the older man’s prostate.

 

“Again”, Sergio demanded, fingernails digging into Geri’s back.

Geri complied, fucking into Sergio with quick bursts before he took a few minutes to slow down and just sit there, letting the captain just feel full. He was holding Sergio’s hips in place, too; the most he could do was maybe move back and forth. They’d lost track of time taking in the sight of each other: marks forming on their bodies, red lips…But mainly they got lost in each other’s eyes. Sergio was trying to move – he needed to get some of the pressure off of his cock, the one that hadn’t been paid attention to at all. But then again, if Geri kept on fucking his prostate like he was now, maybe he wouldn’t need a helping hand. But this was getting too much.

“Please, please, Geri, just fucking let me come”, Sergio begged.

“Is that what you really want, champion?”. Geri was stroking the skin on his hip, an area that would be very bruised tomorrow.

“Yeah, I wanna come. So fuck me harder, or do something with those magic fingers, and make me!”, Sergio demanded.

“You’re so whiney”.

Sergio was about to come out with a retort, but any words were cut off by the ear-shattering moan that escaped his lips when Geri repeatedly nailed his prostate head on, not stopping this time. Sergio’s vision was going blurry, but the pressure in his cock remained before Geri reached between their hot bodies and stroked it gently. It didn’t tale long before Sergio came, thick ropes forming on both his and Gerard’s stomachs. Geri continued to fuck into the older man, seeking his release, which he got when Sergio clamped down on him, letting him feel everything inside of him.

Sergio was whining as Gerard removed his cock, pulling it past the sensitive rim. He quickly disposed of everything as well as he could – Sergio was lying on top of him, so there wasn’t much chance of him moving very far. Thankfully, he could reach over to the wipes and clean their stomachs before pressing a kiss to Sergio’s neck.

“That was an amazing present”, Sergio whispered, nuzzling into Gerard’s neck.

“Oh, baby, you think this was the present? It’s just a warm-up”, Gerard promised, and he swore he could hear another whimper.


	67. Antoine Griezman/ Fernando Torres

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Mariothellama, I hope you enjoy this because I remember the night I wrote this. It's probably a little bit more angst than anything but anyway.
> 
> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing this.

“I can’t do this,” Antoine breathed, staring at the older man.

“What can’t you do?” Fernando wondered, stroking his thumb over the Frenchman’s cheekbone.

“I can’t lose to them again, not here. I just can’t, why is it always them?” Antoine blinked repeatedly, trying to not cry - he wouldn’t waste any more tears because of Real.

“I don’t know, Antoine. Do you know what you’re going to do, though?” Fernando whispered as he carded his fingers through the abomination called his hair.

Antoine shook his head before he wrapped his arms around the taller man’s middle. Fernando pressed a kiss to the top of his head before he started speaking again.

“You’re going to go out there and you’re going to play football. You’re going to make everybody in that stadium proud. You’re going to try everything you can to make sure that we score early on in the match, because then we’ll have a chance to do something great. You’re going to make everybody proud - but not me, I’m already so proud of you that you can’t make me any prouder,” Fernando promised as he nosed through the curly hair.

“Thank you for believing in me,” Antoine mumbled against his ear before he pressed his lips against the older man’s neck.

“Always.”

Nobody could believe the start of the match, especially the yellow cards. The two early goals gave hope to every Atlético supporter in the Calderón; there would be no better send-off for the stadium than beating Real. But then it came crashing down with that away goal - they could have stopped Benzema, but they didn’t. Fernando was already furious heading into the changing room for halftime - why did they keep on fouling Antoine? But conceding just before the break! That made his anger turn into helpless hatred for Real, something that had long burned since his childhood. Fernando had known Antoine for two years, and he knew that look: a look that made the Spaniard want to rip the heads off of every Real player on that pitch.

“Nando…” Antoine sounded so broken, his beautiful blue eyes tinged red with scalding tears as he swallowed.

“It’s alright; we got two, so we can get three,” Fernando whispered, cradling Antoine’s head against his chest.

“Nando, don’t lie to me,” Antoine growled, much to the Spaniard’s confusion.

“I’d never lie to you, but, Anto, we can do something. If I can manage to stay out on that pitch without ripping off their heads because of their fouls, something can happen. Okay?” Fernando promised.

Antoine was silent as Simeone spoke about how the goal didn’t change everything about the game, but the ‘pep’ talk didn’t help anybody. Fernando dropped his hand and found Antoine’s, interlocking their fingers and gently running his this thumb over the back of the younger man’s hand.

“We’re going to go out there and show everybody that we are Atlético, and we’re giving this stadium the best send-off possible. We’re going to win this match,” Fernando vowed.

The match wasn’t the same after the goal; they knew it wouldn’t be. For the final few minutes, the rain poured from the sky, almost as if it was crying with the vibrating Calderón. Antoine swallowed back his sob as the whistle finally went - at least the sticky rain would help conceal the tears that were dripping down his face. Fernando watched as he got from the bench, wanting so much to take the young man in his arms and kiss him, but he couldn’t. Instead, they made their way into the changing room in silence, each player broken that they were out of the competition again at the hands of their biggest rivals - always them. Antoine looked like a drowned rat as he ran into Fernando’s warm embrace; those arms were a place of comfort for the younger man, shielding him from the hatefulness of the world.

“I’m so proud of you, you played so well,” Fernando whispered. “Go - the sooner we get done here, the sooner we can go home.”

Antoine didn’t let go of the older man for another minute or two, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying and sobbing. When he pulled back, he stared up at Fernando, whose brown eyes were alight with emotion.

“Okay,” Antoine whimpered.

Fernando was finished before Antoine was, as was always the case. The Spaniard sat with his head in his hands as he waited for the younger man to finish getting changed. He allowed a few tears to slip out of his eyes before hastily scrubbing them away.

“Come on, mi amor, we’re going home,” Fernando smiled softly.

Antoine was silent as they walked out to the car. The rain was still falling heavily, and lightning forked across the sky followed by clatters of thunder. He stopped next to the car, no longer able to hold back the sobs and tears.

“Antoine, calm down,” Fernando soothed, his voice gentle and silky.

“Why? We’ve lost again, Fernando, and you honestly don’t seem bothered about it. Everybody else in that locker room was torn up, and you just sat there like a robot!” Antoine shouted, his blue eyes almost on fire with all of his pent-up rage.

“You’re not going to blame me for this, Antoine. We tried, we lost on aggregate - do you know how I feel? My heart is shattered, because I had to watch you for so long trying to keep it together when I knew you were struggling. I wanted nothing more than to take you away from all of it, but could I? No. Have you forgotten that this is my home?” Fernando snapped; he, too, was at his wits’ end.

“No, I just…Everything this year has been loss after loss after loss, and I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m worried that one of these days, I’m going to wake up and you won’t be beside me. Right now everything is a mess and I feel like I can’t breathe,” Antoine whimpered as the rain slipped down his face like fire.

With the look that Fernando was giving him, Antoine wanted the ground to swallow him up - maybe then he’d know something other than loss. He expected Fernando to turn and leave him. Instead, Fernando pushed him against the car before he kissed him passionately, one hand finding its way into the younger man’s thick, sopping hair. When Fernando pulled back, more lightning illuminated the sky, allowing Antoine to count nearly every freckle on his face before it descended into darkness.

“You’re always going to have me, Antoine. No matter where you go, I’ll be there with you when I can, no matter what I have to do. You’ll always be number one to me, you always will…and don’t ever think otherwise, Antoine,” Fernando said over the rain that covered his own tears. “I love you.”

Antoine pressed a kiss to Fernando’s thumb as it stroked over his lips.

“I love you, too; we have next year, don’t we?” Antoine smiled before he knocked their noses together.

“No football, just us,” Fernando whispered against his lips before he kissed the Frenchman. “We’re going home.”

The two of them got into the car, sitting there for a minute and just listening to the rain against the roof. Whatever happened next, they’d make it work somehow.


	68. Marcus Rashford/Jesse Lingard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, forster of all I had a few requests for Lingard/Rashford so I hope all of you enjoy this.
> 
> Fluff,   
> Getting together  
> First time kissing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a while for me to do for one simple reason, I hadn't any idea what to do with them. And my stupid boring life decided to torture me again and made me sit through my extended family.
> 
> Anyway, enough of me. I love reading your comments because they mean so much to me. If you have any concerns, recommendations, prompts or anything like that just leave it below. 
> 
> And I hope where ever you are, you're happy and healthy ❤

“Marcus, you coming over to mine?”, Jesse wondered.

“I kind of have to, you ready yet?”, Marcus questioned, coming to stand by the older man.

“Yeah, I’ve got the perfect night planned too”.

“Mate, if you planned it, I’m scared”, Marcus joked.

The car ride was filled with their usual banter, but for some reason Marcus wasn’t giving as good as he was getting. Now that was a worrying sign. The two of them left the car and proceeded to the older man’s bedroom where they made themselves comfortable in the bed before they set up the game. Marcus knew that he wouldn’t be leaving this room for a while, so he was thankful when there was the food.

“You’ll bring food for me, but, does your best friend not deserve a clean up?”, Marcus joked, grabbing one of the controllers, knocking into Jesse.

“Yeah, yeah. You ready to lose pretty boy?”, Jesse teased.

“You wish, I’ll wreck you”, Marcus smirked before they started the game.

They knew each other very well, so they both expected themselves to be very competitive and Fifa was not cooperating because it ended draws, every time. Marcus frowned before he dropped the controller onto the thick black fleece underneath him, running his fingers over the soft material.

“Marcus? What’s wrong with you?”, Jesse wondered, going down to move around the striker, looking at his conflicted eyes.

“What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with me”, Marcus dismissed, but Jesse knew, he always did.

“I know when there’s something wrong. You can talk to me, I’m your best mate, your only mate really”, Jesse added, noticing the way Marcus’ forehead crinkled.

“More like I’m your only friend. I don’t know what to do”, Marcus admitted, dragging his fingers up and down his arm.

“Well, maybe even if you tell me, I can help?”.

“Maybe? Do you remember what you said to me before the last game of the season? And what you so ads to me when I scored in extra time again to Anderlecht?”, Marcus wondered, turning to look at the older man.

“I said I loved you, well love, because I do”, Jesse smiled.

“In what way? A friend way or a tie me down and fuck me way? Because I don’t know with you”, Marcus laughed, before he was poked in the chest.

“I’ll let you decide, I’ve brought you out to dinner multiple times and I’ve paid. Every time you stay over we sleep in the same bed, so which way do you think?”, Jesse grinned.

“I’m hoping it’ll be the second way. Wait, are you telling me you’ve brought me on dates and I’ve been too thick to notice? You’re fucking joking, Jesse, no that has not happened”, Marcus gasped, staring at the older man.

“It’s happened a lot, so, one more match of Fifa to decide who will buy dinner?”, Jesse smirked.

“I’m a much better idea”, Marcus whispered before he kissed Jesse, catching his lips between his own teeth.

“Do you know what how sad I am? I’ve imagined that kiss a thousand times”.

“I hope it’s what you expected”.

“So much better”, Jesse promised before he kissed him back, his hand coming to cup the back from the younger man’s neck, bringing his face closer.

“So how long could we have been doing this?”, Marcus questioned, resting his head on the older man’s shoulder.

“A long time. Maybe long enough for you to win a game of Fifa”, Jesse teased.

“I take it all back, you’re still the annoying Jesse that I love”, Marcus’ cheeks were tinged pink and he looked positivist adorable.

“You know, this is so typical of us? Being so stupid until Fifa makes us talk about our feelings, we’re so fucked”.

“If you win, you might be fucked”, Marcus whispered, nipping at the older man’s neck.

Jesse shook his head, what had he just gotten himself into? Beautiful, kind, loving and funny Marcus loved him. Maybe dreams do come true?

“Could you be anymore corny?”, Marcus laughed before Jesse buried his head in the pillow, what was this? Some rom-com? 

“I can’t believe I just said that out loud”, Jesse groaned.

“You’re lucky I didn’t record it”.

Yup, Jesse was definitely regretting this. But it was all worth it later that night when they were cuddling, Marcus’ head underneath Jesse as they slept.


	69. Marc-André ter Stegen/Bernd Leno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy cuteness, with two of my favourite people trying to deal with the heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've had an idea on my mind for a while now and I want your opinion on it. I was wondering if any of you guys would have any interest in reading this pairing as well as a whole host of others in an ABO fic? Steno would definitely be the main pairing though.
> 
> To Eafay70, thank you for betaing this fic, you're the polisher I need.

It was dark and sticky out on the patio. The wind was whistling in the pale moonlight as Marc dragged his fingers over his arms, leaving a path on the pale skin. There was a quick flash of lightning in the sky, forking out with sparks and beauty before the thunder clattered. Marc didn’t know how long he had been standing here for - time seemed frozen. He couldn’t sleep in the desperate and thick heat. The last time he checked, Bernd was snoozing peacefully, but Marc really didn’t know how long ago that was. There were a few more flashes of lightning and cracks of thunder before it just stopped, the silence returning.

 

“What are you doing out here?”, Bernd whispered, sliding his arms around the younger man’s waist and kissing his neck.

 

“I couldn’t sleep”, Marc mumbled, sinking back into the taller keeper’s embrace, even if it was hot and sticky.

 

“I thought you would have been used to this?”.

 

“I should – not when you’re here with me, though”, Marc sighed before he turned, kissing Bernd’s nose.

 

“Why do I make things different?”, Bernd wondered.

“Because I’m just waiting to wake up and you’re not here. Plus, you cuddle the fucking life out of me”, Marc admitted, dropping his head to Bernd’s shoulder before the wind picked up again.

 

“Why wouldn’t I be here? I’m always going to be here”, Bernd promised, nosing at his hair.

“I dunno. Leverkusen is probably full of beautiful-looking people, Bernd, you wouldn’t have to travel as much, you wouldn’t have to leave whenever you wanted to see me”.

 

“Nope, the best-looking guy I know is standing right in front of me. I love coming here to see you, it’s what makes us us”, Bernd grinned before he kissed Marc. “I love you”.

 

“Love you, too. I’m so glad the Russians didn’t steal you”, Marc smiled. “I do miss the German weather. This heat is not fun, it’s sticky”.

 

“How awake are you?”, Bernd wondered with that mischievous glint in his blue eyes that Marc fell in love with a long time ago.

 

“Very, why?”, Marc cocked his head to the side.

 

“Go for a swim? I’m sure it’ll be cold enough for you”, Bernd grinned.

 

“You want to go swimming at an unworldly hour? That’s a bit weird, Bernd”, Marc shrugged.

 

“Is it a yes or a no, though?”.

 

“It’s a yes, but, you’re going to go up to the room and find some proper clothes”, Marc smirked.

 

“I was hoping it would be a little more fun than that”, Bernd grinned before he kissed Marc, his hand on the back of the younger man’s neck. “Follow me”.

 

“It’s my house, you idiot”.

 

“Shush”, Bernd laughed.

 

When they were walking back down to the pool, Marc was whining about going swimming at three in the morning, but in Bernd’s mind there was no better time. A groan escaped from the Barcelona keeper’s mouth when he sank into the water, feeling the cold water wash over his body. The next thing he knew, Bernd was wrapped around him, arms encircling his neck.

 

“Hi”, Bernd grinned.

 

“I thought you wanted to swim? Not koala me”, Marc spluttered, thankful he was resting against a wall.

 

“I'm happy here, Marc; if you want to move, go ahead. My legs are still a little tense from our escapades earlier”, Bernd frowned.

 

Marc rolled his eyes before he kissed Bernd. His arm was resting on the wall but his fingers were running up and down Bernd’s neck.

 

“I fucking love you”, Bernd said after a while.

 

“I mean, I suppose I love you, too. But I’m starting to prune, Bernd, prune”, Marc complained.

 

“Have you cooled down at least?”, Bernd grinned as he shimmied out of Marc’s embrace before he popped his head under the water. “Because it did it for me”.

 

“I mean, yeah. It was nice”, Marc nodded before he kissed the older man.

 

“Let’s go to bed, you really are starting to prune”, Bernd teased.

 

“You look like an avocado”, Marc pouted, scrubbing a hand over his face once he was out of the pool.

 

“A beautiful avocado”, Bernd stuck his tongue out before he was dragged against Marc’s chest.

 

“You’re beautiful. Now bed – I haven’t slept, unlike you”. Bernd rolled his eyes before he jabbed his finger between Marc’s ribs.

 

“Be nice, Marc”.

 

Once the two of them were dried off, they were ready to get comfortable on top of the sheets because the inevitable sticky heat had returned.

 

“Next time, you’re coming to Leverkusen. This heat, it’s wrong”, Bernd grumbled as he rolled.

 

“Have fun in Dubi, love”, Marc laughed. “That’s the real shit”.

 

“I went to Dubai for a holiday before, and it wasn’t as bad as this”, Bernd muttered.

 

“Go sit in my bath and shut up. I’m going to sleep in this devil heat”, Marc pointed to the bathroom as he rolled a pillow over his ear.

Bernd sighed before he rolled over and slipped am arm over Marc. It was a very difficult night to sleep, but somehow they managed to sleep.


	70. Christian Eriksen/Harry Kane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure fluff that was requested ages ago but I hope you enjoy it.

“Why are you fidgety? Do you want a fidget spinner?”, Harry wondered as he combed his fingers through the Dane’s hair.

 

“No, I’d just like this flight to be over”, Christian muttered.

 

“You’re a footballer with Champions League experience and World Cup games under your belt, Chris. I know it’s not a long flight, but you have me”, Harry grinned, sliding an arm around the older man’s back.

 

“Yeah, but what do I do when you fall asleep? Or when you have to Skype your dogs?”, Christian pouted.

 

“You’ll be my first priority, then Skype. Maybe if you go to sleep for a little while? Then when you wake up, the journey won’t be as long because we'll already be closer?”, Harry questioned.

 

“Okay, my golden boot winner, I’ll follow your advice. You better be a comfy pillow, though”, Christian smirked as the two of them maneuvered so his head was resting against Harry’s shoulder.

 

The striker kissed the top of the midfielder’s head before putting in one of those earphones so he could actually hear what was happening in the movie playing on the small screen in front of him. Christian was snuggling as close as possible, his arm thrown over the younger man’s stomach. That was the worst thing about shorter flights: they never gave you a chance to realise how long you were up there before you had to deal with coming down. The flight was about three and a half hours long, and Christian slept for two and a half hours, his hair sticking into Harry’s nose.

 

“Harry? Are we there yet?”, Christian whispered as he sat up, his voice cracked and his hair all over the place.

 

“No, not yet, babe. About an hour”, Harry sighed. “Nice nap?”.

 

“Your shoulder isn’t as comfortable as some would think, your lap is much better”, Christian yawned as he took the bottle of water from Harry’s hand. “Thank you”.

 

“Oh my, look at the two of you. You are so domestic and adorable! Chris, we need to get that put on a card”, Dele smirked as he walked up and down the aisle.

 

“Like Jan got you a girlfriend? I don’t know how Winksey would feel about that”, Christian narrowed his eyes, smoothing out his hair.

 

“I couldn’t exactly out them to the world, I’m not that rude”, Jan pouted from across the aisle.

 

“Winksey found the entire thing hilarious, though”, Dele mumbled.

 

“We work with strange people”, Christian yawned.

 

“Look at yourself if you think we are strange”, Dele said, outraged, before he waked back to his seat.

 

Okay, maybe his eyes were a little dopey-looking and maybe his hair was sticking up everywhere even though he had tired to smooth it down. Christian scowled at Harry.

 

“That’s you running your fingers though my hair”, the Dane frowned.

 

“Shush, you love it, Chris”, Harry grinned before he kissed the older man softly. “Love you”.

 

“Love you, too, Harry”.

 

Christian was a little bit fidgety for the rest of the flight, but he got his own back when Harry fell asleep a few minutes later: The Dane started drawing on the striker with the red, black, green and blue pens that were in front of them. He’d more than likely be murdered when Harry woke up, or worse, denied sex for a few weeks, but it’d be grand.


	71. David Alaba/Kingsley Coman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cute and fluffy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry I haven't been on here very often in a writing sense, everything has been so draining lately I needed a little break from doing everything. I'm happy to say that while I still feel horrible, I'll get straight back to working on my fics. 
> 
> Thank you all for your patience and if you like what you see, let me know so I can do more of it.

“Did you drink a bit too much, King?”, David wondered as he sat down beside the younger man, carding his fingers though his dark hair.

“G’way, we all can’t be built like you”, Kingsley whined, lowering his head onto David’s shoulder.

The young winger’s voice was slurred and quiet before he tried to stand up, tumbling miserably. The only reason he wasn’t flat on his face was because David’s strong arms were wrapped around his waist, keeping him upright.

“Hi”, Kingsley blushed before he kissed David quickly, his hand moving down to cup the back of the older man’s neck.

“We’ve established that you’re a frisky drunk, but we’re going to go home. Okay?”, David whispered, pecking his forehead and wrapping an arm around his waist to stabilise the younger man.

“Yeah, you must be so pissed about the antibiotics”, Kingsley muttered…or at least that’s what David thought the sentence meant.

“Not really. It means I get to take care of you. Come on”, David smiled as they walked out.

It’s a lot harder than you’d think, finding a car in a car park with your boyfriend gagging beside a stranger’s car.

“Get it out, baby, I’ve sport drink in the car”, David soothed as Kingsley wiped his hand across his mouth.

“That’s the vodka – air and vodka don’t mix”, Kingsley coughed before he grimaced at the bitter taste.

“You’ll be fine. Maybe just don’t try and tell Arjen that you can drink more than he can”, David advised. “I found my car”.

“Stop shouting”, Kingsley groaned, before David opened the door and he tumbled in.

“You’re a hazard, King. Can you just sip on this?”, David whispered, pulling the seat belt across the younger man and clicking it into place before handing him the bottle.

“Do you want me to puke?”, Kingsley wondered as David got in the car.

“No, but it’ll help with your hangover in the morning: that, the painkillers and sleeping”, David promised as he drove back to his house.

During the drive, he cast glances over to the younger man, who was sucking the bottle as though his life depended on it.

“Do you not understand the meaning of ’sip’?”, David raised an eyebrow.

“That would take too long”, Kingsley pointed out.

“In that case, drink the next one”.

Kingsley sighed before he grabbed the second bottle. He was still feeling buzzed, but he shouldn’t have started mixing his drinks – that was very stupid of him. For the rest of the drive, the only noise was the plastic bottle cracking under Kingsley’s grip.

“Can you walk to bed? Or will I find you asleep on the stairs?”, David wondered, a yawn escaping his lips.

“I’m gonna need some help”, Kingsley admitted before he got out of the car, his legs shaking softly.

“Come on, let’s go to bed”, David grinned, slipping an arm around the younger man’s waist and pressing his lips to his forehead.

They managed to make it up to the bed, although the stairs were fun. The Austrian carefully removed the younger man’s clothes, leaving him in his boxers before going to brush his teeth. When he came back, Kingsley was face down in the pillows and snoring softly.

“Alright, you lump, where am I meant to sleep?”, David muttered fondly as he tried to manoeuvre in around the French international.

Finally, David found a comfortable position, with Kingsley basically taking up the entire bed, resting his head on the older man’s chest.

When Kingsley woke up the next morning, his head was killing him with the thumping, but not as bad as it usually would be, and he was starving. The space beside him was cold as well, much to his annoyance. Then the bedroom door creaked open.

“Good, you’re awake”, David smiled as he sat on the bed beside him, handing him a plate. “One spicy chicken roll with cheese”.

“I love you, I love you”, Kingsley moaned before he bit into the roll.

“How’s your head?”, David wondered, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“It’s thumping, but I like your hangover cure. And the food, too”, Kingsley nodded.

“Try to stick to just one type in the future, you never have any bother then”, David advised, dropping his head back to the pillow.

“True, I was fine drinking beer, but then Arjen along and, well, you know the rest”. Kingsley rubbed his head before a card was handed to him.

“Take these, and we’ll cuddle all day. After you brush your teeth”, David grinned as Kingsley finished his food.

The younger man made a face as he dry swallowed the tablets and went to the bathroom, returning a few minutes later. He settled into his customary position with his head on David’s chest. They did spend the rest of the day in bed together, with David being sent down to the kitchen for various food runs and lots of coffee. At least Kingsley would learn to stick to one drink in the future.


	72. Eden Hazard/James Rodríguez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was requested a long time ago and I'm sorry for the wait. 
> 
> Smut  
> Established relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the nicest comment yesterday from a reader and it has spurred something inside of me. Please leave me your prompts or pairing down below and I'll be happy to do it, because I'm here to please my readers

“Fuck yes”, Eden groaned, as he felt the tip of his cock nudge against James’s throat.

The Colombian was humming around it sporadically, Eden’s finger nails ran over his scalp, urging him on. The teary eyed Colombian pulled off with a pop, staring up at Eden with wet lashes and a smirk on his face. James ran his pink tongue over his puffy, wet lips before Eden hauled him up for a nerve wrecking kiss, tasting his own pre-come on the younger man’s lips and tongue as he explored his mouth. Eden ran one hand down the sun kissed stomach, wrapping his fingers around James’s neglected, rock hard cock, giving it a few gentle tugs. He applied just enough pressure so James was begging fore more.

“You like that? Look at my beautiful boy, so pretty looking. All you want to do is get back to bed and get fucked, don’t you?”, Eden whispered, running his thumb over the younger man’s slit.

James nodded before he kissed the Belgian again, becoming more and more aggressive with each kiss. Eden only smirked before he curled his hand against the base of his neck, before he bit into the soft skin of James’s lip, making the younger man moaned in pleasure.

 

“Come on, I think you need to be shown a few things”, Edge whispered, the threat was where behind the husky voice ‘Behave, you’re fucked in more ways that one’ 

James yelped when Eden snaked his hand against his ass, before he squeezed the soft flesh, leaving crest move indents. James made a sound when Eden started sacking marks into his neck, marking him up.

“You promised, no marks this time”, James pouted.

“Sorry, it’s just too good of an opportunity to pass up. Go, go lie on the bed and show me what I get to see”, Eden smiled, kissing James softly, all reassuring and loving like.

James grinned once again before he kissed Eden one last time, a wet and messy kiss before he broke away and walked the familiar path to his lovers bed room. James had just gotten comfortable on the bed, his back resting of the soft sheets before Eden walked in, grinning like he owned the world. Well, James was his world so it was true.

“Look at you, so pretty and fuckable. I’m so happy that I’m the only person in the world that gets to see you like this, you can’t wait, can you?”, Eden whispered before he pressed a kiss to the younger man’s stomach, his hot breath went over James’s cock, making him moan slightly.

“Ed, please. I want you to fuck me”, James muttered, his teeth sinking into his abused bottom lip.

“Soon”.

Eden opened the lube and slathered the cool gel onto his fingers, spreading the excess around James’s twitching hole. Eden teasingly dipped his finger into James’s wanting body, massaging slowly. James moaned loudly, cursing in Spanish, as Eden moved his finger in further, teasing the younger man badly. Finally, after a few minutes, Eden added a second finger, spreading them wide as he searched for James’s sweet spot. The cry of pleasure from the young Colombian told Eden, that he had indeed found it. Every so often, he would run his fingers along the area around it, sending James into overdrive.

“So pretty, do you think you can wait a few more minutes to get fucked?”, Eden whispered in his ear, pressing open mouth kisses to his neck as he added a third finger.

James made an incredible noise as he tightened around the fingers, breathing heavily as Eden moved them inside of him. Seconds melded into minutes and soon the only thing James knew was the orgasm building in him, before everything stopped. He opened his brown eyes, meeting with Eden’s beautiful eyes. He frowned before Eden kissed him, slicking his throbbing cock up and adding the condom. Slowly, he pushed himself into James, feeling the Colombian’s tight channel pulse and melt around him.

“You’re so good, look at you, I love you”, Eden grinned, pressing a kiss to James’s collar bone as he pressed against the younger man.

James’s response was cut off when Eden began to thrust in and out of him, occasion nailing his prostate dead on from the angle. James melted into mewling, whimpering mess as Eden sped up this thrusts, his hand coming to move up and down the younger man’s cock, this thumb rubbing pre-come into the purpling head. Eden littered the top of his chest and neck with more and more love bits and kisses, nipping at the delicate skin before he ran his tongue over the indentations his teeth made, soothing them slightly. 

James moved his hands from Eden’s neck to his back, scraping his sharp nails up and down the shorter man’s back, leaving dark red ships of skin on an otherwise unblemished area.

“Ed, please”, James begged, they seemed to be the only words that the Colombian could utter, it became his mantra as he neared orgasm again.

He pressed his nails deep into Eden’s skin, feeling the way that the older man winced.

“You ready to come baby? I know you’re close, I can feel you, you’re trying to get all I’m worth, aren’t you?”, Eden whispered, he too, was nearing an orgasm as the thrust into the younger man, sending both of them over the edge.

James had just enough energy to wrap his arms around Eden’s heaving body, he held the older man as close to him as he could. Eden decided that he could stay like this forever, minus the drying come on his stomach. So he managed to escape James’s grip, surprised that the younger man wasn’t already asleep. Gently, Eden ran the cotton wipe over James’s stomach before he discarded that and the condom. When he came back he kissed all over James’s face, moving into his warm embrace.

“I love you Eden”, James muttered into the shorter man’s hair.

“Love you too, James, I love you too”, Eden promised, before the two of them fell asleep, exhausted and content.


	73. Gerard Pique/Sergio Ramos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff  
> Smut  
> Ice cubes have been used.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank all of you from the bottom of my heart. I hope you all enjoy the porn and the little surprise at the end.
> 
> Do let me know if you want the end of it go be written separately.

“Geri, Geri? What the fuck are you doing to me?”, Sergio breathed out through clenched teeth, as the younger man teased the head of his cock.

“I’m sucking your dick and eating ice, is that too difficult for you to comprehend?”, Gerard smirked before he ran his tongue over the ice cube.

Sergio whimpered as Gerard took him into a cold mouth, bit by bit, occasionally running his tongue in just the right to way send shivers down Sergio’s back. Sergio gasped when Gerard nibbled on the side of his thigh, sucking as dark mark into the tanned skin.

“You know, you could be a bit nicer to me, or, do you want me to stop?”, Gerard raised an eyebrow and Sergio’s eyes widened in horror.

“Don’t you dare stop, I will kick you in the face if you stop”, Sergio threatened before he groaned loudly, as Geri took him further into his mouth.

The younger man could feel the hot skin against his cold mouth, it was pulsing and throbbing as he licked at the head, his hand was jerking the part his mouth couldn’t get to. Geri hummed softly, his free hand running up and down Sergio’s abs before he tweaked his plump nipple between his fingers, causing the Real captain to hiss.

“Geri please, I actually think my dick is going to fall off”, Sergio whined before Gerard pulled off with a grin, pressing on single kiss to the head.

“And how would you cope without you’re best friend? I think you’d be the perfect little bottom, all whiney and needy, but you’re like that with a dick”, Gerard pointed out before he kissed Sergio, his tongue running along his lips, slowly making its way into Sergio’s mouth.

Gerard bit down on the soft flesh when Sergio pulled at the bottom of his hair.

“Sergio, do you want your present now?”, Gerard whispered against kiss bitten lips.

“What? Yes, yes, please”, Sergio breathed put as Geri worked his hand over Sergio’s cock.

“Good, stay here for me beautiful, close your eyes”, Sergio felt Gerard’s weight move away from him and return a money or two later.

Gerard rubbed his hand up and down Sergio’s shaft before Sergio shouted when he felt a hard vibration up the length of his cock, he opened his eyes and stared at Gerard’s blue ones.

“What the fuck are you doing? Torturing me?”, Sergio growled.

“Yes, sexual torture, it’s more fun than ripping off fingernails”, Geri laughed before he kissed the top of Sergio’s dick.

“I can’t deny that”, Sergio squeaked when Geri ran the vibrator around his balls and blessed it to the tip.

Gerard knew the breathy moans were an indication that Sergio was about to come, so Gerard let go of his cock and held the vibrator on the pulsing vein. He watched as Sergio’s face contorted into one of pleasure mixed with over sensitivity when Geri didn’t take the device away from him, even after Sergio came on his stomach. He was achingly hard again in two minutes and was begging to come again. Geri clicked his tongue along the tip of Sergio’s painfully hard cock, before he took his cock in his mouth, feeling the vibration in his own mouth before Sergio came again. He moaned when he felt Gerard swallow around his cock. The other defender looked as debauched as Sergio felt, his hair was a mess and his lips were a dark pink colour. Sergio could only imagine what he looked like as the buzzing stopped and he felt Geri kiss the inside of his thigh.

“Turn around, up on all fours”, Geri demanded.

Sergio did it, although his body feel that like it was aching before Gerard ran his lips over his tattooed back. The Catalan popped open the bottle of lube and spread some on his figured and around Sergio’s rim. He slowly worked the pads of his fingers along the muscles, gently opening Sergio before he slipped a finger inside of him, twisting it around, allowing Sergio’s body to get used to the intrusion. Soon, Gerard was able to add a second finger in, he slowly began massaging them before he felt Sergio loosen enough to take his cock.

“Please, Geri. It’s not enough”, Sergio cried out before Gerard removed his fingers and he trailed his lips up Sergio’s back before he snagged the bottom of his ear.

“Soon, I promise”, Geri soothed before he pulled away, as he lubed up his own throbbing cock before he rolled the condom on.

He slowly pushed into Sergio, sliding one arm underneath the oldest man’s tight body to pull him closer and he thrusted into him, hitting his prostate easily because of the angle. Sergio lost track of time in his head, he felt his orgasm building up in his body as everything started spinning, he was worn out and exhausted. He felt Geri kiss at the back of his neck, getting close to his ear as he continued to fuck into his lover.

“I love you, I fucking love you. You’ve been so good, go on, come for me. I know you’ve been waiting to”, Sergio groaned loudly as Geri sucked on his neck, sending him over the edge and coming into Geri’s hand.

Sergio heard Gerard’s stuttered moan from behind him as the younger man came, kissing the back of Sergio’s neck.

“Stay here so I can clean you up a bit, then I’ll give you your present”, Gerard whispered as he watched Sergio flop on his back.

Geri used the wipes that were strategically placed on the coffee table to clean them up. He kissed Sergio quickly before he got up and went to tell kitchen to retrieve the wrapped box.

“You actually got me a present? Geri, you didn’t have to”, Sergio smiled, moving to rest his head on Geri’s shoulder.

“Open it”, Geri whispered, his blue eyes full of emotion.

Sergio unwrapped the paper, raising an eyebrow when he saw it was a toaster.

“It’s not a toaster, look in the box”, Sergio shrugged and continued to open it.

His heart caught in his chest when he say the red velvet box at the bottom. He reached inside and took it out gently, holding into it as though his ideas depended on it.

“Sergio, Sese? Are you okay?”, Geri wondered as Sergio felt his fingers thumb away the tears.

Sergio didn’t respond as he opened the box, a silver band gleaming proudly. He slipped it onto his finger with the gentlest of movements before he kissed Gerard, his fingers running through his hair.

“Sergio Ramos García, will you wed this tortuous soul?”, Gerard wondered.

“I fucking hate you right now, but yeah, Geri. I’ll marry you’re lanky ass”, Sergio grinned, kissing Gerard one last time.

“Bed?”, Geri questioned.

“To sleep”, Sergio added before they walked off, hand in hand.


	74. Alvaro Morata/Paulo Dybala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've had this for a long time and I thought I'd posted it but I haven't. I hope you enjoy it even though it's a bit outdated ( the blue part of my heart is jumping with joy)

Paulo had just gotten back from training. He was tired, and all he wanted to do was cuddle with a person who was currently in Madrid…or at least, who was meant to be in Madrid.

 

“Paulo, I was wondering how long you’d be. I’ve been sitting here for the past ten minutes”, Alvaro grinned as he stood up before he had an armful of Paulo.

 

“What are you doing here? I’ve missed you”, Paulo hugged into him, holding on to him for dear life.

 

“I wanted to visit you, congratulate you and spend some time with you”, Alvaro smiled, kissing the younger man’s damp hair.

 

“Thank you. Come inside”. Paulo’s eyes were shining brightly as he turned the key in his door.

 

“You know, I was watching a video of you on YouTube. It was when we were given the Coppa Italia last season – and you were crying. What happened?”, Alvaro wondered as he pulled Paulo down onto the sofa.

 

“Oh, the party? It was just the fact you were going back to Madrid and the others left. I didn’t want to get lonely”, Paulo shrugged.

 

Alvaro frowned before he pressed a kiss to the shorter man’s lips, his fingers sneaking under his training jacket and feeling the goose pimples rise underneath his touch.

 

“I didn’t realise. But Gonzalo has been good, you have the Argentine connection”, Alvaro grinned, failing to hide his jealousy.

 

“Pipita is Pipita, no need to be like that. Now Isco? I’ll be having words with that anchovy-eating bearded person. You are my tall striking Spaniard, not his”, Paulo smirked before he kissed Alvaro, sinking his teeth into the older man’s lip softly. “Mine”.

 

“And I’m the jealous one?”, Alvaro teased, his fingers scrubbing through Paulo’s hair.

 

“Alvaro”, Paulo whined before he kissed the striker. “Leave my hair alone”.

 

“Never. I picked something up for you”, Alvaro grinned as he opened his bag and handed the Argentine a bar of chocolate.

 

“Is this what I think it is?”, Paulo wondered as he gently peeled it back, breaking off a piece of chocolate and putting it in his mouth.

 

“Yes, it is, Paulo: It is your beloved milk chocolate with chilli fusion that I brought on a plane. I also have mint crisp, salted caramel and white chocolate and cookies and cream. Don’t ever say I don’t love you”, Alvaro grinned before Paulo kissed him, letting him taste the chilly chocolate goodness.

 

“Thank you. We’ll still kick your ass in Cardiff, but I’ll bring you some treats of your own”, Paulo smiled, pecking all along Alvaro’s face.

 

“Don’t talk about the game”.

 

“Until I get my victory sex afterwards”.

 

“Or I get mine”.

 

“Fine with me, I just want the sex”, Paulo laughed, resting his head against the taller man’s shoulders.

 

“I love you”, Alvaro whispered, kissing his mussed hair and forehead.

 

“Love you, too”, Paulo sighed, a content air to his voice as he reached to entwine their fingers together.

 

“I’ve noticed that Gonzalo likes to hug you a lot”, Alvaro narrowed his eyes comically before Paulo raised his eyebrow.

 

“Yeah, don’t worry, it’s not as good as your hugs, mi amor”, Paulo grinned. “I’m going for a shower, I’ll be back in a few minutes”.

 

“Don’t trip and crack your skull”, Alvaro muttered before he kissed him one last time.

 

“I’m not you, Alvaro, I’m not you”, Paulo called.

 

When he returned half an hour later, the two of them cuddled on the sofa watching Netflix until the early hours of the morning, curled around each other. Paulo had decided that Alvaro’s chest was a very comfy pillow, even if his hair was wet. Alvaro didn’t complain; he had one of the things that meant so much to him so close.


	75. Hugo Lloris/Toby Alderweireld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was requested a long time ago by liefdewint and I'm sorry I'm only posting it now, iv e had it for a long time.
> 
> As some of you know, iv e been having a rough ould time of it lately and because of that my uploads have suffered. Don't worry though, I have all of your ideas and I do plan on writing them. So thank you all for putting up with me over the past few weeks, my mind has been in other places but I do plan on getting back to writing for you guys at the start of August.
> 
> I'll work from the furthest up to the newer and I hope I can get up there because I'm worrying about the punctuation and just the overall content because I've been without my polished Eafay70 for what feels like an age now but she'll be back too so everything will be much better than it is now. 
> 
> Once again, I'm sorry if I've disappointed any of you or you feel as though I was ignoring your requests, I wasn't. I hope you enjoy this fic as a token of my apology.

“Are you stupid?”, Hugo grumbled.

 

“What did I do?”, Toby frowned, moving closer to the Frenchman.

 

“‘You’re better with your fingers than me’”, Hugo mimicked.

 

“Oh, that? I mean, goalkeeper, steady hands, Hugo”.

 

“Do you want me to prove how good I am with my fingers?”, Hugo grinned before he kissed the younger man, his tongue flattening against Toby’s.

 

“I mean, for the amount you’ve teased me today, yes”. Toby kissed him back harder, nipping at his lip harshly as Hugo’s fingers wandered through his hair.

 

“There hasn’t been much teasing, you’re just sad that you lost to Eric and now Jan is laughing at you. Ours was better than theirs”, Hugo smirked before he kissed down the side of Toby’s neck and pulled off his top.

 

“Was probably paid off”, Toby groaned when Hugo’s fingernails dug into the soft flesh around the waistband of his pants.

 

The goalkeeper was kissing him again, his tongue thrusting around his mouth as his hand wandered around Toby’s ass, squeezing and kneading the thick flesh. He felt Toby rub against his leg, already half hard.

 

“Get on the bed and take off your clothes”, Hugo whispered in his ear before he snagged it between his teeth, sending a shiver down the defender’s spine.

 

Toby kissed him messily before he broke away, shedding his bottoms and his boxers and leaving them in a heap on the floor before he settled on the bed. He watched Hugo curiously: the French captain was bending over, giving Toby a lovely view before he started to shed his own clothes. He stopped on his knees on the bed, dropping the bottle of lube and the condom beside him before he kissed up Toby’s chest and neck, sucking the occasional mark into the skin.

 

“Stop biting me”, Toby complained.

 

“Never”, Hugo grinned before he placed a solitary kiss to the defender’s lips. “Move for me?”.

 

After Toby adjusted his position, Hugo coated two of his fingers in the cold gel-like substance before he spread some around Toby’s opening, slowly teasing him open by gently dipping his fingers in before he completely withdrew them. Toby whined every so other when they went in further, stretching him open. The defender loved the feeling, no matter how uncomfortable it may have been.

 

“Hugo?”, Toby breathed, his teeth nipping his already kiss-bitten lips.

 

“Yes?”, Hugo answered, spreading both fingers wide inside of the younger man repeatedly and skimming over his prostate. He left Toby crying out in pleasure and his cock leaking on his stomach.

 

“More, please. I need more. Your fingers are great, but your cock is the best”. Hugo smirked at those words before he kissed his defender possessively, withdrawing his fingers with one last skim over the prostate to torment Toby.

 

“Whatever you want”, Hugo whispered against his lips, their eyes meeting before Toby buried a hand in the older man’s hair and crashed their lips together.

 

Hugo slicked himself up and expertly rolled on the condom, adding more lube before he slowly worked himself into Toby, inch by inch. Once he was fully rested in him, Hugo dropped his forehead against Toby’s, slowly snapping his hips into the defender, the head of his cock brushing along his prostate with every thrust.

 

“You’re so beautiful like this. Gasping and begging, moaning and so loud. I love it. I love you”, Hugo whispered, kissing Toby – but this kiss wasn’t like the others. This kiss was soft and filled with love, whereas the other ones were filled with passion and heat.

 

“I love you, too”, Toby groaned, clenching around Hugo as he reached between their bodies so he could wrap deft fingers around his own aching, leaking cock, the tip of which was still glinting with beads of precome.

 

“Toby, if you keep doing that, I’m not going to last very long”, Hugo warned.

 

“That’s the idea. I need to come, it’s just so good”. Toby swallowed down a moan when Hugo hit his prostate head-on as he came, the sensation something he’d never felt before.

 

Never before had his body responded the way it did then: the way it tightened around Hugo, the way he could feel every muscle contract and move inside of Toby as the goalkeeper came into the condom, the groan being ripped from his throat.

 

But as usual, Hugo was the first to recover while Toby lay there, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Hugo took a wipe to clean up the mess on his stomach before he disposed of everything in the bins, returning to the bed.

 

“Wee don’t have to be anywhere?”, Toby wondered as he pulled Hugo closer to him, resting his head on the goalkeeper’s chest.

 

“Nope, only here, cuddling. Go to sleep if you want”, Hugo replied, kissing the younger man’s damp forehead as he stroked his back.

 

“You’re staying, though – I need my pillow”. Toby’s tone left no room for argument, so Hugo just settled down and closed his eyes.


	76. Toni Kroos/James Rodriguez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is pure fluff about James and Toni dealing with the two season loan to Bayern Munich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is naturally unbeated but I hope you all can look passed that. I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> I wrote this for a friend and I hope you enjoy it as much as he did.

“Toni, honestly, you’re making a bigger deal of this than I am”, James whispered, hugging the older man.

“I know, I want you to be happy and you’ll be happy. But I don’t want you to go, but you’re not happy where you were, so you’ll be happy here”, Toni frowned, kissing the Colombian's forehead.

“It has nothing to do with anybody, especially not you. You’re my home, I’ll be happy with you as long as you’ll have me”, James smiled, before the Germans behind the two of them coughed.

“If either of you turn into love sick puppies, I’ll go crazy”, Thomas coughed before Manuel shot him a look.

“G'way Thomas, we all know what you’re like when Manu isn’t around”, Toni muttered “Why is this so hard?”.

“It’s like bringing your child to school, it’ll be better for both of you when the first day is done”, Thomas announced.

“You’ll get used to that, you should hear him if were losing. His speeches leave something to be desired”, Mats grinned before he caught Thomas' wrist that tried to hit him.

“Are you sure you're going to be fine?”, Toni asked one more time and James nodded.

“We're not planning on sacrificing him Toni, that’s next month’s agenda”, Manu joked.

“Right well, I better get going before I miss my flight. If I hear that one thing has happened to him, I will make your life a living hell”, Toni sighed.

“Would you go before you miss your flight, if you don’t go now, I won’t talk to you for a week”, James threatened and Toni looked outraged before he planted a kiss on the younger man’s lips.

“I love you, I always will and I’ll talk to you later”, Toni promised before he left, his steps faltering as he neared the door.

The four of them heard the engine going, Jerome had offered to drive him back to the airport. Mats felt his phone buzz with a message.

From Kroosie: Look after him for me? I feel like I’ve lost part of me.

Mats felt for Toni, he really did. But, at least the blond knew that James was in safe hands with everybody at the club. He sent back a quick reply before Thomas started talking.

“So, we're going to play in the Telekom Cup against Gladbach, Bremen and Hoffenheim. It’s a simple thing, but the fact it’s only 45 minutes is the hard part. Lucky for you, there’s no relationship for you to deal with, yet”, Thomas explained.

“If I lasted 3 years stuck between the relationship of Sergio and Gerard, I think everything else will be a slice of cake”, James laughed and the others saw his logic.

“That’s only one, we have”, Mats counted on his fingers” We have like five. Honestly, you’ll never get used to it”.

James laughed. The other three stayed a little longer, even offering to help with unpacking a few of the boxes that were around. James politely declined and Mats, Thomas and Manu left. James sat on the sofa, he looked around the living room. He and Toni found the house, not too big but big enough. He sat on the sofa, the house came with a few furnishings, but it didn’t feel like home. Then he realised it wasn’t home, Toni wasn’t here to make it a home, so now, it was a house that had the potential to become a home  
James was outraged at the thought of making a home without a certain blond, but Toni would find his way. James sat back against the arm of the sofa, what life without a few ups and downs?

**--**--**

“You’ve not even been there a week and you’ve won a trophy”, Toni laughed as his face connected on the laptop screen.

“I know, it’s a bit weird. How are you?”, James couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“I’m okay, we're being worked to the bone. I miss you too, but you know. Have you gotten your furniture yet?”, Toni wondered.

“Nope, I’ve put in the order and stuff but they said it could take up to a month to get it and ship it. I’ve a bed and a cooker, I’ll be grand. Your national teammates are so nice, what happened with you?”, James winked.

“Do you even remember how to cook? You had two years of me cooking for you and I'll forget about the last part”, Toni teased, but James heard the change in tone.

“You know you mean the world to me, I love you, I really do", James promised and Toni wished he could reach out and hug him.

“I know to do, think we'll ever get used to it?”.

“Nope, but, if we let a little bit of land mess us up after everything I did to get you, I’ll be so pissed”, James pointed out.

“I know, I know. I had glitter coming out of my hair for days. Think, it’s not that long until the Winter Break, then after that it’ll be the World Cup. We do not mention the Champions League, understand?”, Toni breathed, his heart pounding at the thought of it.

“Toni, don’t start worrying. If it happens, it’ll be fine. We'll be fine. I’m planning on building a shrine to you above my bed, it means you’ll be the last thing I see and the first thing”.

“That’s creepy, Hammie”.

“And you’re not allowed to mope, Marcelo sent me a picture of you being sad on a plane, you’re face is too pretty to be getting wrinkles from frowning”, James grinned.

“My face is perfectly fine, thank you. Listen, I gotta go, but remember that I fucking love every inch of you and I always will, and, we'll get through this like we do everything else”, Toni promised and James nodded.

“Love you too, Tone. Have fun in L.A.”, James smiled before the window closed.

James fell asleep easily that night, any worries were washed away in the waves of his dreams because he knew, he knew that this was what he needed and becomes that Toni would always be there. But, mainly he knew that he was loved unconditionally and he could build anything over that foundation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always leave your comments, kudos, critiques and requests, I love hearing your feedback.


	77. Toby Alderweireld/Hector Bellerin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blow job and dirty talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VowelsAreCool requested this one, I hope you don't mind it as your request wasn't very specific, if it's not to your taste I'll redo it. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own and I hope the rest of you enjoy it.

“Don’t beat yourself up Hector, you didn’t have that long on the pitch, the damage was done”, Toby pointed out as he sat down beside the Spanish defender.

“I know, but I don’t like when you get bragging rights, it’s horrible and you bring it up as much as you can”, Hector moaned.

“Well instead of moaning, I can think of something better to use that pretty little mouth for”, Toby smirked before he kissed Hector, roughness and heat dripping form the heat.

Their tongues clashed as Toby moved Hector, one hand on his jaw as their fiery kisses became more aggressive on Hector's sofa. The rain was pelting against the panes before Toby pulled away, not before he ran his tongue over Hector's abused lip.

“I’m not sucking you off, my team fucking lost”, Hector shook his head.

“And my team won, which means I get the congratulatory blow job, see had to have one back go each other after the draw. So, now it’s my turn to reap the rewards”, Toby smirked.

“I hate that infuriating smirk", Hector growled before he slipped to his knees in his own sitting room, it should be his dick getting sucked but it’s not, the damn injustices of the world.

“I knew those lips would be put to work tonight, go on, make it nice and wet, you might get fucked later, you might not", Toby grinned as he shimmied off his pants, exposing his semi hard cock.

Toby slid his fingers into the Spaniard’s soft hair, pushing his face into his crotch. Toby let out a low groan when Hector took him into his mouth, his hot, wet tongue caressing the sensitive flesh, sucking on the pulsing veins. Hector took him further down his throat, until the head nudged in the back of his throat, causing tears to burn at the side of his eyes.

“Look at you, so desperate for cock you'll even cry for it", Toby gasped before a spark of pleasure ran through his body when Hector licked at his balls, before he sucked on into his mouth, his tongue lapping at the thin flesh.

Toby tightened the grip in the younger man's hair, forcing his head further into his crotch, as though that could magical make Hector's mouth reach more places. Hector pulled off with an obscene noise, his lips shiny and red with Toby's pre-come and his own spit. He stared up at Toby through thick lashes as his tongue darted out and pressed to Toby’s slit before he jerked a hand at the base of Toby’s cock, bringing him close to an orgasm, one that evaded him like the devil avoids good deeds.

“What're you doing?”, Toby breathed.

“Hopefully finding a way to travel back in time so I don’t have to be on my knees in my own motherfucking home", Hector smirked before he kissed up and down the length of Toby's throbbing hardness, teasing the Belgian defender.

“I hate when you do that".

“And I love it, it makes you come so hard, I love feeling how hard you get, I love knowing that even though you think you hold all the cards, I could make you come right now, or in an hour", Hector whispered before he enveloped Toby's cock, cutting off any reply the older man could of had.  
The air was thick with want and need, Toby wanted nothing more than to push Hector down and come, but he knew most of the fun came in the chase, but this chase lasted a lot longer than it should have. The rain had long since stopped, the moon hung high in the sky, it’s pale beauty hiding the desire and passion in the two men. Toby was still on the edge, whenever he came close to coming, Hector would continue to lick the hardening tip, but his hand was squeezing Toby in places that stopped his orgasm.

“Please, Hector, Hector please”, Toby cried out when he was brought to the edge for the third time, it was being to become too much now.

“I guess I can give you your reward now love, just remember that I'm always in charge, in everything we do”, Hector smirked around Toby's cock before he moaned and flicked his tongue against the older man’s cock.

That threw Toby over the edge of whatever heights he was flying at, he moaned as he felt Hector swallow around him, the heat of his mouth becoming almost unbearable. Toby slumped back against the sofa cushions, his eyes half nodded and blurry from the force of his orgasm. He heard Hector walk off before he came back a few minutes later, peppermint mouthwash scenting his breath. He pressed a few lazy kisses to Toby's neck and cheek.

“Ever do that to me again and I’ll tie you down and make you come so many times you won’t know how to do anything but beg", Toby warned as he curled an arm around the younger man's waist.

“It was worth it, you be had one if the best orgasms of your life”.

“I wouldn’t go that far, loser”, Toby smirked before he kissed Hector's temple.


	78. Julian Weigl/Joshua Kimmich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbeated, and was all for Mariothellama, I how this is what you wanted. I've spent most of the night working on it because I wanted you to have it as soon as you could.

His recovery was coming along great, bit it still stung when he saw Bayern lifting the trophy, Julian couldn’t even begin to grasp what the new season may of had in-store for all of them. He saw Josh, smiling brightly, so bright that it could probably light up the entire stadium. Julian was walking with the guys, showering them with praise, when it came to penalties one could never really beat themselves up. It’s a game of luck at that stage. But Julian felt a pair of wide arms, definitely Josh.

“Hi pumpkin", Josh whispered, nuzzling at the side of the younger man’s neck.

“Go get cleaned up, I’m not taking you back to my house smelling like wet dog", Julian teased before Josh pouted.

The older man hates it when Julian made that same stupid joke about his home town, especially after a match. He split and followed the Bayern player back to their showers while Julian wrapped gave a supporting hand Roman, who was fairly pissed off at himself.

Julian had to give some excuse to Thomas about why he wasn’t going back with them on the bus, but the elder saw right through it.

“I’m going to assume it’s the and reason why Lewy is coming either?”, Thomas smirked when the Pole hit him on the arm.

“I told you, I’m just checking on the llama, have to go keep his spirit up", Lewy laughed, but of course Thomas laughed louder and Josh saw it as his opportunity to escape the crazy man.

“I’ll think of something for you Josh, but make sure you find a way back to the hotel before we leave, or you will be hit repeatedly upside the head by myself and Manu when we get back", Thomas threatened lightly, but they stopped working a long time ago.

“Give your “munchkin" a cyber hi for me, won’t you?”.

Josh doesn’t think he’s ever ran as fast in his life, but he did, his bag was hitting against him as he heard Thomas whine.

“Has nobody told you to never run in the corridors?”, Julian raised an eyebrow.

“You’d run from Thomas too, his idea of punishment is squeezing you to death”.

Julian shrugged before he pecked the older man’s hair as they walked out to the slightly injured man’s car. The drive back to Julian’s house took less time than Josh remembered, but soon enough the two of then were kissing though the front door. Although Josh did pull away once they landed on the sofa.

“No, you’re still in recovery”.

“Are you shitting me? Honestly?”, Julian looked horrified” But I’m fine”.

“Not for what I want to do to you. For now, we can cuddle", Josh grinned, repositioning the two of them on the large sofa, his head resting on Julian’s chest.

“So, how’s my man of the match feeling?”, Julian wondered after a while of silence.

“Tired, you’re too comfy as a pillow", Josh yawned.

“Did you just call me fat?”.

“What? No, what made you think that?”.

“Who likes bony pillows?”, Julian frowned, carding his fingers through the older man’s still damp hair.

“I didn’t mean it like that you oaf. I meant that I was falling asleep because I’m happy and content with you. Munich is lonely without my pumpkin", Josh sighed, kissing the younger man’s cheek.

“I love you too, it gets lonely without you too", Julian grinned, pressing dozens of small kisses to the side of the older man’s face.

“Do you know what would make me even happier?”.

“Do tell”.

“Stop calling me a wet dog, do I look like a dog to you?”.

“Yeah, maybe a Jack Russell”.

“If I’d be any dog is be a Rottweiler”.

“Can we stop thinking of you as a dog? Not only is it making me feel very strange, and not in a good way, but it’s also highly illegal", Julian shivered and Josh flicked his nose.

“Why did you have to being that up? Can we just go to your bed and watch T.V., I’ll have to go early in the morning”, Josh frowned as he stood up.

So for the rest of the night until both of them drifted into a lovely sleep, they spent it curled around each other, Julian has his head resting on the older man’s chest as Josh ran a hand up and down his back. Both of them would five whatever they could to have this more often than they get to, but when they do get to just hold each other close like this, it makes it so much better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, leave your comments, concerns, pairings and ideas down below. I look forward to your feedback.


	79. Julian Draxler/ Max Meyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut that was thought up by myself but shinyWesZ wanted the surprise at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own and I hope you enjoy it all, again sorry for making you all wait so long.

Max was sitting on his sofa, his fingers tapping against the back of his phone. Julian was late, Julian was never late. Minutes melded together before Max heard the keys turning in his door. He couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on his lips as he opened the door.

“Take your keys out of the door next time, Maxi”, Julian grinned before he dragged the younger man into a bone crushing hug, his lips running against Max's forehead.

“I missed you”, Max whispered before he kissed the base of the taller man’s neck.

“You kept your promise too”, Julian reminded before he missed Max softly, live and adoration melting against their lips.

“So did you. Although I think Brandty broke my back”, Julian mumbled, he still hasn’t let go of Max.

“Why do I feel as though you’re lying just so you can get into the bath?”, Max eyed suspiciously as Julian made a face.

“Why do you have you know me so well? Are you telling me you wouldn’t like to just, sit and relax?”.

“Yeah, that’d be nice. Not too hot, not too cold”, Max sighed.

“So all you need is a light jacket?”, Julian smirked before Max started laughing in his arms.

“Yeah, that sounds about right”, Max gasped for breath as he stopped laughing.

“Well, are you coming with me? Just sit and tell me how Poland was”, Julian requested as he pulled the younger man to the bathroom.

So Max told him everything about Poland, how much he loved playing with the team and how proud he was of Jules and the Confed team. Julian could feel his heart swell as he swirled the cold water into the tub. He couldn’t a really believe that he had Max, beautiful, talented, caring and loving Max. Julian was his head on the cool tile wall of the bathroom before he leaned his head into Max's knee.

“I love you, so much”, Julian whispered as he felt Max's fingers running through his hair.

“I know Jules. Love you too", Max promised before Julian pulled away, going back to the bath and turning off the cold water.

He heard Max leave the room, more than likely to grab towels or clothes. Julian used this time to put his little surprise on the granite countertop the sink sat it. He made sure to hide it behind the no flame candles that changed from a dark red to a brilliant green and all the colours between. Max came back in, hands filled with two grey towels.

“Careful Maxi, the bundle is almost as big as you”, Julian teased as he stripped and sink into the hot water.

“You're so funny. What were you and Brandty doing anyway?”, Max wondered.

“I was giving him a piggy back and he kinda kicked me in the back. Blame Josh for everything, he sweet talked Jogi”.

Max was quiet for a moment before he sunk back into Julian’s arms, the older man’s hand rubbing over his stomach.

“Remember when he was quiet? What happened to him?”, Max wondered before Julian kissed the side of his head.

“Thomas got to him, Thomas gets to everybody”.

“That’s very true”.

Julian grinned before he started to kiss the back of Max's neck, nipping at the warn flesh softly. Max let out a sigh a Jules ran his fingers up and down his side.

“Are you trying to seduce me in a bath? Do you not remember what happened in the shower?”, Max reminded.

“Please don't, it had to be on internationals as well. But shush, do you remember how good it felt?”, Julian whispered.

“How could I forget? The bruises were on my knees for two weeks”.

“See, you remember bruises in your knees, but I remember those pretty lips kissing everywhere they could reach. I felt the heat of you pressed against me as the water dripped around us. That’s what I remember”, Julian whispered, his fingers now dancing around Max's semi hard cock.

Max turned his head, capturing Julian’s lips in a messy kiss, he twisted his body so he was now facing Julian with his knees outside of Julian’s thighs. Julian moved back so he was flush against the edge, he felt Max wrap his arms around the older man’s neck. Julian dragged his fingers down Max's spine, stopping at the small of his back.

“Julian Draxler, if you even attempt to tease or do anything that does not involve some part of you in me, I will hit you”, Max threatened as Julian reached up to the candles, pulling the lube out.

“Alright you little puppy, you think you’re frightening", Julian laughed before he kissed Max again.

Somehow, with one hand, Julian managed to open the lube and squirt some on to his fingers and spread some around Max's opening. He massaged around the tight muscle, his fingers slowly working the area until he managed to push a finger inside of the younger man, moving it around to help loosen Max. The blond was groaning, is forehead resting against Julian’s. The Confed winner pressed a few kisses to the side of his face before he slipped a second finger in, spreading them wide inside of the tight channel.

“Again”, Max panted, as he felt Julian’s hand run from his neck to his cock.

The grip was infuriating slippy because of the water. Max keened as he felt the older man press against all of the right spots inside of him. His hand kept up a steady rhythm. 

“This time feel better than the shower?”, Julian smirked before he used his hands to drag Max down onto him, hitting the younger man in all the right places.

Max didn’t know how long has passed but minutes felt like hours of tortuous pleasure, he was burning up, just on the brink of coming but the water felt like a velvet blanket around him. A guttural groan escaped his parted lips when Julian fucked into him particularly hard as well as the added pleasure from the hand around his aching cock. Max cried out and Julian bit into his shoulder as they both came.

It took them both a few minutes to regain full motion in their bodies and Max wasn't happy.

“You fucking bit me”.

“And?”.

“Are you forgetting in going on holiday with Leon? He’s going to make my life a living hell”, Max whined.

“Stop whining, it’ll deter him from trying anything. Now, do you think we can get out? And maybe get a shower, you know?”, Julian shook his head before he pressed a kiss to the dark red mark his teeth left.

“Yeah, that'd be nice. I’m not getting in my knees this time, I need to wash my bath”, Max pointed out as he pulled the plug.

“I’ve a present for you”, Julian admitted.

“Funny, I have one for your too”.

The managed to get through the shower so thought anybody dripping to their knees( although hands did wander). The two of them snuggled down on the bed, it turns out their lovely presents were the jerseys from both of their respective finals. They booth thought of it as a way to be together even when they were apart, after all number 7s are always connected.


	80. Bernd Leno/Julian Brandt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cute fluff and some snark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was requested by Random weirdo, I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Excuse me of there are any mistakes, they are all mine from 4am when this was written.

“Bernd? Where do you see yourself in five years?”, Julian wondered, resting his head on the older man’s chest.

“I don’t know Jule, maybe asleep? Like what normal people do at three in the morning, especially when they can sleep late the next morning”, Bernd mumbled into the younger man's hair as they listened to the wind outside the window.

“Okay, I’ll ask you in the morning. Night babe”, Julian whispered before he felt the goalkeeper’s hand against his pale skin.

But Julian didn’t sleep, he was too engrossed in the wind outside and the multiple thoughts that ran through his head. So, Julian slid out of Bernd's embrace, he pressed a kiss to the top of the older man’s head before he retreated downstairs. He lay on the sofa, stacking the pillows below his head before he grabbed his laptop off of the coffee table and logging into his Netflix account. So yeah, that’s how Julian spent his night/ early morning. Time fell away from him and the thoughts were pushed from his head, not all of them though.

Julian knew where he wanted to be in five years, he didn’t know where he'd be, but that was the beauty of football. He knew he’d like to be with the National team, it had a lot to do with Bernd being there and all of the guys from other teams because who knew where they'd be in five years. Julian also knew who he wanted to be with in five years, he wanted a certain blonde goalkeeper to be in his life, though usually Bernd annoyed the life out of him, he loved his idiot. Julian spent all of the early hours of the morning watching random films on Netflix, he didn’t even notice Bernd walk down the stairs at 9am.

“Why'd you leave?”, Bernd wondered, sitting on the bottom of the sofa.

“Wind kept me up, so did your snoring but I can’t help that with you, old man", Bernd narrowed his eyes at the younger man, before he scraped a nail up the sole of his boyfriend's foot, grinning at his hiss.

“I’m not old, 25 is not old. You want breakfast?”.

“You take the bacon, I’ll take the sausages and the toast", Julian mumbled as he set his laptop on the table. 

The lanky blonde stood up and stretched, his bones had a satisfactory crack before he walked to the kitchen. Bernd followed behind him, going straight for coffee. While it was boiling, Bernd slid a hand around Julian's hip, his lips dragged up the side of the younger man’s neck.

“You asked me last night where I was myself in five years. I don't know anything else, but, I know one thing. I want you to be there, I want you to be everywhere with me, you’re kind of like that annoying, nagging voice on my shoulder that makes me pick the good over chaotic evil. I like it though, you’re hair's a bit flouncy but you’ll grow into it eventually”, Bernd smirked.

“My hair is not flouncy and K do not need to grow into anything . I love you, and your breakable face, but, I’d love you even more if you make some of that delicious, crispy bacon”.

“I think you only love me for my bacon”, Bernd muttered before he drank his coffee.

“I love your bacon, it’s so crispy and nice. But I like you too, it’s a pretty face and a nice body. It’s a win-win for me”, Julian shrugged before he stole Bernd's coffee mug, draining the liquid in three gulps.

They finally made breakfast when both of their stomachs started to demand it. The smell of baking bacon wafted through the kitchen and Julian swore he got twice as hungry once he smelled it. They plated up the food, and they are it while they scrolled through their phones, looking at the training their teammates were doing while they got to enjoy some free time thanks to the Confed. 

“I think we’ll be worked to death when we go back, don’t you?”, Bernd grinned.

“They can work us to death, I don't care if we have to sacrifice somebody to the footballing gods, if it makes it better than last season, I'll do anything to make it better", Julian shook his head.

“Why? It wasn’t that bad, it was hard but not worth sacrificing somebody”, Bernd scoffed before he put his plate in the sink, pouring a mug of juice before he sat back down at the table.

“No but watching you beat yourself up about every loss and draw killed me. It was horrible”.

“But this one will be different, it’ll better. I hope it is anyway, it’ll be grand. We have a few Confed winners and some U-21 winners too. If we can bring peace and harmony, everything will be fine”, Bernd placated and Julian rolled his eyes.

“When did you start sprouting weird stuff about harmony and peace. You're lucky I love you”, Julian shook his head before he pressed a kiss to the older man’s lips.

“Love you too Jules, love you too”, Bernd grinned before he kissed the top of his head, running his nose through the minty smelling hair.


	81. Leo Messi/Sergio Ramos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spicy  
> Arguing  
> Iker and Geri are Sergio's squad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Thisndkss not ready my personal feeling of thoughts, I just needed something funny to use.
> 
> All mistakes are my own but I tried my best for you guys, as always.
> 
> Thank you all for being patient and waiting for these especially Sorana, who has waited for this fic, I hope you enjoyed it.

“It wasn’t that bad of a tackle Leo, you know that", Sergio argued in the stadium car park.

“You got a red card for it Sergio, there was obviously something wrong with it. You made crazy hand gestures to the ref, let’s see if you get an extended ban like Neymar did”, Leo growled.

“Oh, Ney this, Ney that, has it ever occurred to you that I don’t give a fuck about the Brazilian? Has it occurred to you, that if you cared so much, you, the golden boy of football could have any ban overturned for any of your friends, just like you got the Argentina one overturned, because you can really say that to air? Really Leo, think of a better excuse", Sergio snarled.

“At least I've never been sent off wearing the captains arm band, I’ve never been sent of for Barca, you be been sent off, is it twenty two or twenty three? I lost count after ten. Can you believe that people said you’d be a good successor to Iker? They but have been drunk", Leo spat, his words stinging like Hornets venom, each word was like a barb to Sergio’s heart, Leo instantly regretted his words, but he knew it was too late.

Sergio sent him a look that would have any man, woman or child quake in their boots before he stalked off, his voice a dangerous whisper as he cursed. Sergio found a wall, and punched it repeatedly, why did he have to make that stupid tackle? Why did he have to hurt Leo? Why did he have to get a straight red? Why was he chosen as captain of Real Madrid when he can’t even keep himself in check? And the final question he asked himself is the one that that hurt the most: had he just fucked everything up with the one man he truly loved? His mind always jumped to worst case scenario.

Sergio slid down against the wall, his eyes felt like they were crying glass but the tears that slid down his cheeks like molten lava. Of course it was Geri that found him, that stupid Spaniard had a knack for turning up at the worst moments.

“Come on Sese, let’s get you home and get you Iker", Geri sighed as he hauled the crying man up.

Despite what the media thought, the two of them were solid, they bonded over their love for making Iker crack up with their idiocy and their mistimed tackles. Of course the rivalry made their relationship spicy, but you had to poke the Human to get it to wake up, it’s not fun chasing something that can’t fight back. Geri shook his head, the only noise that could be heard in the car was the sound of their breathing and Sergio’s whimpers.

“What happened Sergio?”, Gerard questioned.

“We got into a fight about the stupid tackle, I said something about the Argentina ban and then he launched into an attack on me saying how I should be ashamed of myself and people must be stupid for thinking that I could ever live up to Iker. I think we broke up", Sergio whispered.

“I’m sorry, Leo did what?”, No, there was no way soft spoken Leo used Sergio’s greatest fear against him. Would He?

“You heard me Geri, prick took my worst nightmare and threw it back in my face. What did I do wrong? I thought I found an actual functioning relationship instead of just fucking you or Iker every so often”, Sergio moaned.

“Thought we agreed to never talk about us having sex? It was like five times. When we get back to your house do you want us to Skype Iker? He can be your agony aunt”, Geri grinned.

“Yeah, maybe he knows how to fix this".

It was another ten minutes before Sergio got home. Sergio and Gerard dropped to the sofa as the older defender grabbed his laptop and they prayed that Iker would answer. Within three minutes of ringing, Iker's face popped up on screen.

“What happened? Why are then two of you in the same room? Especially after the match, you were at each other’s throats", Iker muttered, his sleepy head proper on a pillow.

“Sergio and Leo got into a fight and they both said some things”, that comment got a noise from Sergio who went to argue, but the look that Geri shot him made him think twice” But Leo said that Sergio should be ashamed to be captain of Madrid because he’s setting a bad example”.

Iker made a noise before he nodded.

“If he said that to you he is both a prick and right. You nearly took his leg off Sese, what did you say after? Mention the Champions League? Or World Cup?”, Iker wondered, trying to gauge the situation.

“Try the whole ‘ getting off Scott free for cursing out a ref’ thing”, Sergio mumbled, waiting for Iker to lose his cool.

“Well of course he'd snap at you for bringing that up Sergio, but he had no right to say that to you. Both of you are in the wrong here, Geri, where do you fit into this?”.

“I found him crumpled on the floor with a dodgy looking hand, I brought him home”, The youngest man answered.

“That was good. Maybe one of you should call Leo and apologise, there’s not a lot that I can do from Portugal about this, but tell him if he hurts either of you, he’ll know what I can do to him", Iker warmed as Geri fished out his phone.

He dialled Leo's numbers and he picked up on the second ring.

“Don’t say anything, I’m here with Sergio and you be been a knob, the both of you, if I put you on to him will you both apologise and talk through this later? Because I don’t want to know his make up methods”, Both Geri and Iker shivered at the thought.

The older man took the phone from Geri and he wanted for an apology, he wouldn’t cave first.

“Look Sese, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I read about you not living up to Iker, you’re a good captain, you care about your team and you’re great. I’m sorry, but you need to know that you hurt me when you said those things and when you tried to take my leg off like a windmill but, I’ll look passed that”, Leo mumbled.

Both Iker and Geri shared a look as Sergio started frowning. He sighed before he started to speak.

“I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have mentioned Neymar, but it gets annoying after a while, just hearing about him all the time, I didn’t mean to nearly take your leg off and on sorry about being so hot-headed and annoying sometimes”.

“It’s okay, we all are sometimes. Big as long as we're good, that’s all I care about", Leo promised and Sergio believed him.

“Love you too Leo”, Sergio said before he hung up the phone, both Iker and Geri were staring at him with wide eyes.

“You two are so weird, like, what was that?”, Iker asked through the computer screen.

“How-to resolve dramatic actions without terrible consequences featuring Iker and Geri and starring Leo and Sergio?”, Gerard offered with a shrug.

“That’s probably the closed thing that will describe this situation, now, can we find an icepack for my hand?”.

Bother Iker and Gerard rolled their eyes, they had a hot headed bull that doubled as a cute seal pup for a friend. It’s easy to say Sergio Ramos is one of a kind.


	82. Jakub Błaszczykowski/Łukasz Piszczek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some cute fluff that was requested by Mariothellama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Mariothellama, I hope you enjoy this on, the two of them are actually pretry hard to write.
> 
> To Eafay70, praise the Lord that I have you back now, never leave again, please.

The first of September was a night that Łukasz wanted to forget. They made it back to the hotel in Denmark, but the bus was silent. Many of the players were just sitting there, pain etched into their faces. They trudged to their respective rooms in the hotel. Kuba hid his face in Łukasz's neck once they got into the room. Two goals in the space of two minutes: they had lost the first international game of the season. Łukasz hugged into the other man, running his nose through Kuba's silky hair.

 

“It doesn’t matter, it’s just one match”, Łukasz whispered.

 

Kuba shrugged, devoid of any feeling other than the numbness is his legs. He hated losing for Poland – it stirred something inside of him that he didn’t like. He was always tough on himself after a loss; he tried to remember what he did wrong and what he could do right the next time. Łukasz hated when he did that – it wasn’t his fault if all of them were all over the place, if the other team was simply better than them.

 

“I’m going for a shower, don’t stay up”, Kuba muttered as he sidestepped the other man.

 

Łukasz kissed Kuba softly before he dropped his forehead against Kuba's.

 

“I’ll be here, love you", Łukasz smiled before he pecked Kuba's lips again.

 

Kuba sighed before he grabbed some of his clothes and headed to the bathroom. Łukasz sat on the edge of the bed before he moved to get more comfortable on the white sheets. He checked his phone as he squished the cushion underneath his head.

 

From Lewy09: How's Kuba? Woj is cursing in Italian.

 

Łukasz laughed slightly before he responded.

 

To Lewy09: He’s angry at himself. He'll probably just sleep all night.

 

From Lewy09: Woj is now beating a pillow. Remind me why I love him?

 

To Lewy09: Do you really want me to say that? I’m sure your imaginative brain can come up with the answer.

 

From Lewy09: Too true, too true, Łu. Now he’s curled around the pillow like a cat, he’s so weird. Anyway, look after Kubs, he’ll need his cuddle buddy.

 

Łukasz laughed at the winky face before banging on the headboard to annoy the occupants next door. The Dortmund man played on his phone, stupid Stack. He didn’t notice Kuba until the other man slid in beside him, his pale skin tinged a dark red colour from the heat of the water.

 

“Are you okay?”, Łukasz wondered as he dropped his phone to the bedside table.

 

He turned to look at Kuba, who was staring at him.

 

“I’m fine, I’m just tired now – my legs don’t hurt anymore”, Kuba shrugged before he slid closer so he could rest his head on Łukasz’s shoulder.

 

“That’s good – we need you in tip-top shape, and I like it when you’re happy”, Łukasz grinned before he ran his fingers through the wiry wet hair.

 

“I know you do, that’s why I love you”, Kuba grinned.

 

“Ja też kocham, gwiazda”, Łukasz whispered before he kissed Kuba, nipping on his bottom lip.

 

“Star? I thought I was your moon", Kuba laughed.

 

“You're my stars and my moon”.

 

Kuba looked at Łukasz longingly before he started to speak.

 

“Nie wiem, co zrobię bez ciebie”.

 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you either, moja miłość”, Kuba grinned before he slipped under the covers.

 

The two of them rested against each other. Their eyes slowly slipped closed, with the warmth between them battling against the cold that tried to seep into their bones. It was nice and cosy when they woke up the following morning, so the two of them stayed wrapped around each other, lips roaming around hot bodies. They were perfectly fine and content with one another.


	83. Jan Vertonghen/ Granit Xhaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was requested by VowelsAreCool, I hope you enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again there was no beta, but I hope I did her justice, I hope all of you don't mind if there was one or two errors, I tried to find them.

They had met at one of those football events a little over a month after Granit arrived at Arsenal from Gladbach. It started off as a fiery, thunderous affair, debauched sex after matches if they won, and if they lost. They never really planned in it became a thing, it wasn't meant to erupt into the pool of molten soft love it had turned into, but one thing stayed with them, the constant teasing.

“Tell me how Thursday night’s go, I suppose I’ll find a way to watch your match”, Jan had smirked one evening when they were wrapped around each other.

It was both cold and rainy in London, the English summer had well passed. So of course, pre-season training was working them to the bone, both of them were exhausted but Jan couldn’t resist the laugh he got for making Granit pout.

“Are you ever going to shut up about that?”, Granit whined, pulling the blanket up to his neck.

“Are you ever going to stop pouting whenever I bring it up?”, Jan raised an eyebrow.

The midfielder growled lightly, the sound rumbled in his chest, Jan simply pet the dark hair, laughing to himself. Granit might put on a tough guy persona during matches but his literally the softest and squishiest human around, all warm and gentle, soft kisses and silky caresses.

“Have fun putting the pressure on in Wembley, I think I’ve won there more than you have", Granit smirked.

“You cocky little shit”, Jan growled.

Granit's back hit the cushion that was lying on the end of the sofa in the blink of an eye. They did their little dance or whatever the two of them liked to call in, lips travelled up and down soft necks, and their nose bumped against each one another. Jan’s hand found the younger man's and their foreheads connected.

“You're cocky little shit", Granit promised before he brought his and up to cup the side of Jan’s face.

He brought their lips together in a soft, gentle kiss, their tongues parting their willing lips. Jan dropped his head to the other man’s shoulder and he felt a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I’m sorry", Granit sighed.

They had never talked about it, whether they were each other's( they definitely were each other's but just hearing it out of Granit's mouth made Jan's hair stand on edge)

“Why? I’ve been waiting to hear you say for so long”, Jan grinned, peaking a glace at the dark haired man.

“I’ve been shitting a brick for the last month and a half how to tell you”.

“And what is it you want to tell me? That you love me?”.

Granit rolled his eyes before he kissed Jan, as he pulled away he nipped at the other man’s lips, causing Jan to groan.

“Say it", Jan whispered, his voice as thick as honey and as soft as silk.

“I love you, I could say it in a few more languages if you want”.

“So could I but I'd love you even if you weren’t a polyglot”, Jan promised before he sealed their blood together again.

The spent the rest of the evening curled around one another, Granit's head was tucked into the older man’s neck. Both of them felt so comfortable, just basking in the warmth of each other. It was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always leave you comments, kudos, critics and requests down below. I look forward to them


	84. Hugo Lloris/Eric Dier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some of my inner musings from the Chelsea vs Spurs match. It contains cute fluffy squishness.
> 
> Eafay70 betaed this.
> 
> So this is my first fic that comes after I go back to school. I hope you all enjoy it and of course, leave your requests down below.

Hugo was silent as he trudged through the door to his house. Eric was following behind him slowly, a frown stuck on his lips. He watched as the goalkeeper dropped his bag and headed straight for the shower. Eric headed to the kitchen and began making dinner. Cooking was relaxing for him, and contrary to popular belief, Eric could cook very well – he just couldn’t bake. Oh, no: if Eric tired to bake, you’d probably lose your kitchen at least. So, as Eric stirred the pot, he was lost in thought as the scents steamed his face.

“Hey", Hugo whispered, resting his head on the younger man’s shoulder.

His skin was still tinged a deep pink colour and his hair was sticking to his damp forehead. Eric leaned back into the other man’s embrace. Hugo's hand worked its way under Eric's black top, his fingers dragging along the soft skin that covered hard muscles. Eric let out a breath and turned his head to pressed their lips together softly, before Hugo ghosted his pink lips down the side of Eric's neck.

“You okay?”, Eric asked as he turned off the cooker.

“Later – let’s just eat. It looks good, better than those godforsaken chocolate brownies", Hugo chuckled softly.

The pair took their plates and headed to the sofa, where the TV was waiting for them. They continued watching some random Netflix film, which was both a blessing and a curse because some of them were weird. Long after their plates had been put in the dishwasher, along with all of the pans and pots that had been used, Hugo was quiet. He had been for a long time, and Eric knew what was wrong. Everybody could figure out what was wrong with Hugo.

“It wasn’t your fault, Hu”, Eric pointed out, resting his head on Hugo's clothed shoulder.

“It was though, Eric, I should have got down faster”, Hugo muttered, his fingers moving against one another as a form of distraction.

“It’s fine – it’s the second game of the season, there's a long way to go”, Eric said reassuringly, his hand coming down to rest on the goalkeeper’s knee.

“But what if we can’t win? We’ve played there eleven times: we've won two, drew one and lost the others. This season is going to be a disaster”, Hugo muttered.

“Sorry, are you the same Hugo Lloris that gives out to me when I’m the least bit negative? You’ve just said that we’ll lose the entire season”, Eric announced incredulously. Hugo did not just say that.

“I didn’t say that we’d lose the season, I just said it’s going to be a battle, more so than usual. Stupid Alonso and his nice hair”, Hugo muttered and Eric laughed.

“His hair is ghastly, mate. Yours is so much better – probably softer, too”, Eric grinned as he dragged his fingers through the dark locks.

Hugo slapped his hand away before he fixed his hair, his lips pouted softly. Eric rolled his eyes before he pulled Hugo's body to his. The Englishman pressed a kiss to the Frenchman's temple.

“We’ll be fine. We’ve faced harder odds and won”, Eric reminded him.

“Ice is fairly hard, and so is land, but you didn’t beat them”, Hugo laughed.

“Fuck you, Hugo, I thought you loved me”, Eric whined dramatically.

“I do, but I’m never letting you forget that”, Hugo grinned up at him, his eyes full of love and mischief.

“We’ll be fine, Hugo. I’ll dig up some dirt on you, don’t worry”, Eric teased before he kissed the older man.

“Try, I’m perfect”.

Eric rolled his eyes before he kissed Hugo again. The things he had to deal with – more like the people he had to deal with. He loved Hugo, but the Frenchman got on his nerves sometimes.

“Love you”, Hugo whispered as he leaned back into Eric’s embrace, feeling the tickle of Eric’s warm breath on his sensitive neck.

“Love you too, Hu – love you, too”, Eric grinned before he pressed his lips to the pale neck.


	85. Marc Bartra/Roman Burki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wanted opinions. Im thinking about a student teacher fic, there's a mix of everyone and anyone in there as students and teachers. Now, my problem is I can't decide who to pick as the main pairing, because there's a few. My obvious choice is Marco and Robert, but I don't know... I tired doing this once with Aaron and Jack but it wasn't right. Any ideas on this would be greatly appreciated. Thank you all.

“I love it when you score", Roman grinned before he pushed Marc against the door of his bedroom, his lips wandering all over the soft skin.

 

“I love it when you don’t concede; it means we both get to have fun", Marc whispered before he connected their lips in a hot battle of tongues and teeth.

 

They moved from the door to the freshly made bed. Roman was on top, grinding their hips together as they made out. Their hearts were racing in their chests as the two men groaned together.

 

“Why do you have to be so fucking good looking?”, Marc whined as he clawed at Roman’s top.

 

“Because I’m beautiful”, Roman grinned before he threw his top over in the vicinity of their bags.

 

Marc nodded before he moved the both of them so he was on top of Roman. Marc slowly kissed down the side of his neck, nipping, licking and sucking on the skin as he moved his way south. His tongue trailed over the hard muscles that fluttered beneath his warm mouth. Marc pulled down Roman’s shorts and boxers in one swoop before licking from his balls to the hardening tip.

 

“Tell me why we didn’t do this in the hotel?”, Roman breathed as Marc’s tongue ghosted over his cock.

 

“Because one or both of us will end up screaming and we don’t need a repeat of the last time”, Marc grinned.

 

The Catalonian cut off any reply that Roman would have had by taking his hardening cock into his mouth. It was a hot, heavy weight in his mouth as Marc worked down the shaft before he went back to kissing and licking the tip, teasing Roman as he fondled the warm balls. Roman's groans filled his bedroom. Marc swallowed him down, the younger man feeling the pulsing tip in his throat. Roman’s hands were tugging on the silky strands as his hips moved gently.

 

“Fuck you and that dastardly mouth of yours”, Roman groaned.

 

Marc hummed around the hard cock before he pulled away from it with pretty pink lips, strands of salvia connecting to the head of Roman’s cock. Marc moved to Roman’s mouth, allowing the goalkeeper to taste his pre-come as their tongues wrapped around each other. Marc kissed down the side of his neck before snagging the shell of Roman’s ear.

 

“Fuck me", Marc whispered breathlessly.

 

Roman groaned before he started to rip away Marc’s clothing. He lay the Spaniard on his back before he lubed up his finger and massaged around Marc's fluttering, velvety entrance. Their kiss was already debauched by the time Roman slipped his finger inside of the younger man. He moved it around, adding more lube before slipping another finger inside Marc, which caused the Spaniard to cry out into his mouth.

 

“So good, fuck, Roman, yes", Marc breathed harshly before Roman took his hard cock in his mouth.

 

Marc swallowed down the moans that threatened to escape his lips before Roman pulled away from him completely, leaving Marc withering for his touch.

 

“Fuck me, I want to feel you, just you”, Marc whispered, and Roman understood what he meant.

 

The goalkeeper added more lube to the younger man’s opening before he slicked up his hard cock. Marc felt caged underneath the strong, thick body. The Spaniard cried out as Roman pushed into him and they started to kiss again. Roman took it slow at first with soft, gentle thrusts before Marc gripped onto his hair, spurring him on. His thrusts became harder and harder as Marc tightened around the pulsing member inside of him.

 

“Fuck, yes – more, please!”, Marc screamed as Roman nailed his prostate head on, again and again.

 

Marc was close to coming, every fibre in his body tingling as Roman mounted into him. The constant assault on his prostate sent Marc over the edge with a cry of pleasure as Roman continued to fuck himself inside of Marc – softer this time, as he knew that the Catalonian was hypersensitive from his orgasm. Marc was whining softly as Roman spasmed inside of him. Roman came with a groan before he dropped his head into Marc's shoulder. He went soft inside of Marc as he caught his breath.

 

“That's why we didn't fuck in the hotel; I’m surprised the police aren’t outside. But, fuck, that was worth the wait", Marc breathed as Roman moved gently, slipping past his puffy rim.

 

“True, I’m so tired".

 

“Don’t you dare fall asleep. I have to get a shower, and you’re getting one, too”, Marc huffed.

 

“It can wait a while. I’ll change the sheets?”, Roman offered.

 

“Okay”, Marc sighed as he cuddled close to the older man, who nipped at his jaw softly.

 

Not only did Roman have to clean the sheets, but he also had to clean the shower.


	86. Jesse Lingard/Marcus Rashford

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is through Paul's POV, kinda. But it's been requested a lot, Lingard/Rashford. 
> 
> This also deals with a few other pairings that are briefly mentioned  
> Hugo/Laurent  
> Grizi/Oil  
> General cuteness on behalf of the French  
> Eden/Juan.
> 
> Fluff and cutness of course. Betaed by Eafay70.

Paul narrowed his dark eyes at the two other boys, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched the two of them interact with one another. The Frenchman sighed; he’d been here a year, but he was just starting to wonder if there was something between Jesse and Marcus. To him the hugs seemed normal, just like the resting their heads on each other’s. He did that with Grizi multiple times – a lot, actually, now that he thought of it... They did that a lot, a lot more than Hugo and Laurent, or even Grizi and Oli. Once Paul was taken from his musings by a tiny Spaniard, he grinned.

“Juan, you know the way we mainlanders are quite cuddly? Like, you like to snuggle with the Belgian surprise, right?”, Paul teased and Juan shrugged, though a pretty pink tinged his cheeks.

“Obviously. Why? Is this about you and hair guy?”. The small man raised an eyebrow.

“No, it’s not about Antoine – and I know his hair choices are abominable, especially his facial hair…or his attempt to grow some”. Paul shook his head at the mention of his fellow Frenchman. “I’m talking about Jesse and Rashy”.

“You do know that they're together, right? You do know that, how could you not know that?”, Juan grinned as he motioned over to the two men sharing earphones once again.

“I told Jose they'd still get their phones in. They can’t live without Instagram or Snapchat. Anyway, I thought they were just being European: I’ve seen how huggy you get with David and Ander, you’ve seen how huggy I get with Hugo and Laurent. The people are just so huggy. And, no, my idiotic striped head did not know that they were together”, Paul muttered.

“Don’t be hurt that they didn’t tell you. They like to keep it pretty quiet…except at night on away games, never quiet then”, Juan shivered before he walked away.

Paul thought for a moment before he walked over to the other men, intent in his eyes before he smiled at the two of them. Marcus looked very peaceful as he hummed the bassline of the song, his head resting on Jesse's neck. Paul coughed softly. The two of them broke apart, blush tinging their faces.

“Can I help you?”, Marcus asked as Paul and Jesse began their weird handshake.

“Yeah, can I talk to you for a minute?”, Paul raised an eyebrow before he slid both of his hands into his jacket pockets.

Marcus stood up, cracking his knuckles as he walked over to the area where Paul and Juan had spoken.

“What's up?”, Marcus questioned. The sigh lingered.

“So, you and Jesse are together? I mean, the two of us have latched onto each other over the last year – that doesn’t bother you?”. Paul was genuinely curious. A grin blossomed on Marcus' face.

“No, believe me, Marcus has eyes for one person and one person only. What took you so long?”, Marcus wondered.

“I’m French, we all hug each other. Nothing new here, to be honest – you should see Hugo and Antoine, those two won’t leave each other alone”, Paul grinned.

“I suppose you want a lollipop for figuring it out? It took Juan ages…and Ander, and Eric. Somehow, Zlatan, Luke and Miki all figured it out within, like, a month of us getting together”.

Paul nodded before he cracked his neck side to side, watching Marcus wince at the sound.

“If you hurt him, break his heart or do anything that I, as his big, younger brother, see as upsetting toward him, I’m stabbing you with a spork. And you know I’m not lying: I stabbed Hugo with a spork when he was rude to Antoine one time”, Paul threatened…but Marcus laughed slightly.

“Please, he’s safe with me. This morning I stopped him from breaking his face open because he was on Instagram and nearly fell into the pavement”.

“Sounds like something he’d do, to be fair. He’s hopeless when it comes to technology”.

“Excuse me, I am fabulous, so don’t speak about my Instagram obsession. What's this little edict about?”, Jesse narrowed his eyes.

“Paul finally figured out that we’re together. Apparently that gay or European thing applies to us", Marcus laughed.

“Took you long enough, mate. I’m pretty sure after the Europa final everybody figured out", Jesse smirked before he wrapped an arm around the younger man.

“This is why I’m thankful I sleep with music, it drives out the sounds”, Paul muttered before the two Englishmen rolled their eyes.

Paul walked away from the two of them. Suddenly he felt weird. Then he realised that they’d been having sex in the room beside him. He wanted to gag.


	87. Harry Kane/Jamie Vardy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've never actually thought about this pairing before but VowlsAreCool requsted it, and it was interesting to write. I hope you enjoy this collage AU.
> 
> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing all of the fics that I've been coming out with.

“You and your Skittles fucking vodka”, Harry laughed as he watched his flatmate – and boyfriend of a year and five months – separate all of the different colours into piles.

“It’s delicious, though. Plus, we’re having the lads over for the final party before the end of term exams, Haz – I can break out the WKD and the Stella, if you want?”, Jamie teased before he kissed the younger man on the hairline.

“Please, and I thought you couldn’t get any gayer", Harry laughed as he went through the flashcards: Bio notes for a stupid cow. He didn’t want to be a large animal vet, he wanted cute dogs and cats.

“Put the notes down, Harry. It’s your second year; everything will be fine. We have another week and a half before your exams start, and then we’ve two weeks before mine start. Just sit back and enjoy an orange juice”, Jamie smirked as he dropped the red Skittles into a glass.

“Why do I love you?”, Harry raised an eyebrow before he drank some of the bitter juice.

“Because I strapped up your arm after a cow kicked you. I had no clue what I was doing, so we bonded over our knowing of nothing. Plus, I make really nice hot chocolate", Jamie shrugged as he started to stir the glasses.

Harry watched as the colour diffused into the clear spirit. He’d never liked the taste of alcohol, or the effects it could have on people. He remembered how the friends he’d had in school used to always wonder why he never drank and how they used to judge him. But now, he had a great group of friends; though most of them had the occasional drink, not all of them were heavy drinkers, so the party tonight wouldn’t be that bad. But these notes were important.

“Babe, notes away. Taking one break won’t kill us all, the cow diagrams can wait", Jamie sighed as he sat on the kitchen chair beside Harry.

“I know, but I’m starting to freak out because next year? That’s our make it or break it year. It’s so tough, 8-4 every single day and hardly any breaks. I’m just freaking out”, Harry breathed, snapping an elastic band along the pink index cards.

“Look at me…We're all going on a nice, relaxing holiday before you go back for third year. Everything will be fine. Eric and Danny are in the same boat as you – plus, I'm a medical student, I’ll find a way to make this work. Think of all of the rough days, and all of the warm baths, and melted cream and chocolate bars, and hot chocolates…”, Jamie winked before he kissed the back of Harry's palm.

“One of those hot chocolates would be really nice right now”. Harry had that coy smile on his face, the same one that got him everything.

“Fine, I hate when you pull that face”, Jamie rolled his eyes before he kissed the top of Harry’s head.

There was silence in the apartment as the chocolate, milk, cream and marshmallow melted together in the pot. Harry grinned as the scents wafted through the kitchen. He was on his phone now, responding to the messages about the party in the group chat they all had.

From Ericbear: Plz tell me u guys have pizza?  
From It’s good to Drinkwater: Yeah, lads I need that. I’m going home to my family tomorrow, can’t look like I’ve died.  
From Vinny: Better get a new face then.

Harry was laughing at the responses that particular message received before he calmly replied that yes, there would be pizza and cookies ‘for this sad lot'. He only turned his attention away from the phone when the gleaming ceramic black mug was placed in front if him. The hot chocolate had a huge dollop of cream in the middle, along with a few pink and white mini-marshmallows.

“You’re the best, you know that?”, Harry grinned.

“I have been told that. Now drink up that hot chocolate, we have to kind of clean and get a shower. You get the shower and I’ll clean?”, Jamie wondered.

“I’ll drink this, and then we’ll go for a shower together?”, Harry smirked around the rim of the mug.

 

“Oh Harry, I knew I’d corrupt you soon", Jamie laughed.

Somehow, the party went off without a hitch and it was on time.


	88. Luke Shaw/Harry Kane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this yesterday after I got my exam results. My ones didn't have an implication on my future like there's does but I want to add a Are we factor for all of you.
> 
> I managed to pass very subject, so for one in thankful to teachers out there. As you can guess, keep the requests coming and I'll deliver them eventually. Promise.

“Look at me: There’s nothing to be worried about in that envelope. These results don’t define you”, Harry promised. His hand was closed firmly around Luke's neck, a solid, comforting heat radiating up the pale skin.

 

“It kind of does, Harry – if I don’t do well in these, I can kiss goodbye to college, goodbye to you”. Luke was shaking in the older man’s embrace; he was completely terrified.

 

The two of them were standing behind the school sports hall. They could hear a few others inside shout with excitement and happiness, and a few cry with misery and sadness.

 

“Come on, Lukey – it won’t be the end of the world. I promise”, Harry nosed through the fluffy hair, the white envelope shivering in the icy wind.

 

“Can I go home first? I don’t want the others to see me when I fail”, Luke sighed, dropping his head to the older man's neck.

 

“Would it make you feel better if I opened mine?”, Harry spoke softly. His own envelope lay forgotten in his bag, which was resting at his foot.

 

“In a minute”, Luke whispered as he hugged Harry close to him, as though he would vanish in a poof of smoke.

 

They two of them held onto one another before Luke took a step back, his eyes slightly red and his veins blueish beneath the pale skin under his eyes. Harry carefully reached down and pulled the envelope from the bag; it was white, a stark white that hurt. He could feel Luke’s sweet gaze pool over him, providing warmth like a blanket in mid January. Gently, Harry ripped it open and stuffed the envelope into his pocket.

 

“Haz?”, Luke swallowed – he was feeling nervous for Harry, and it showed.

 

Harry looked at the page. Two A's, four B's and one C: that was enough for him to get to college. It had to be. Harry nodded happily before he felt a tight squeeze around his waist.

 

“I’m so happy for you. So proud. I know how hard you worked”, Luke whispered.

 

Harry was speechless; he wasn’t prepared for that. It was true – for the last four months, Harry had nearly lost everything because he was focused on his studies, too focused. He had nearly lost Luke, and his friends.

 

“Come on, Lukey, your turn”, Harry grinned as he moved to slide his arm around the younger man and rested his head in the crook of his neck.

 

Gingerly, Luke tore open the envelope. He was shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind. He was petrified. He and Harry wanted to do the same thing in the same college. They were mirrors of each other, reflections of their desires and personifications of their love. So, knowing that with Harry by his side everything would be fine, Luke ripped the envelope open, violently. He felt the tears burn as he looked at the report: six B's. That would be enough, that was definitely enough. Luke hugged Harry close to him as the tears fell; he felt deft fingers run through his hair to calm him.

 

“Come on, Lukey. I’m so proud of you, baby. Let’s go find the others and celebrate, yeah?”, Harry whispered as he kissed his forehead.

 

Luke didn’t say anything – he just cuddled closer to Harry and breathed in the scent of his lemon and ginger aftershave. This was the start of the rest of their lives together, and neither could wait.


	89. Aaron Ramsay/Jack Wilshire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is a little different.
> 
> There is reference to cheating on Jack's part and Aaron is a tad bit paranoid when Jack goes out to clear his head. Can you blame him?
> 
> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing this fic.

"Are you crazy?”, Aaron sighed as Jack trudged into the living room.

“Fuck off, Aaron, not in the fucking mood", Jack spat as he walked past the older man.

Aaron dragged him back, but Jack hissed at him. Aaron shrugged. The two of them didn’t need a full-blown fight – they never did. Fights between the two of them usually resulted in a lot of angry words and very, very angry sex. They both were too alpha male for their own good.

Aaron was staring down at Jack. Both of them had a fire burning under their skin and thrumming through their veins.

“You’ve been gone all day, you didn’t answer my call or my texts”, Aaron growled.

“And what do you think I was doing? Going out and finding a stranger on the street? What’s your head telling you, Aaron? Is it telling you what he felt like, what he tasted like?”. The smirk on Jack's lips was begging to be taken off.

Aaron breathed for a minute. He felt his body tingle and burn beneath Jack's dark gaze. So Aaron went below the belt.

“Is that how Joe felt? A nice, warm body for you to spend your time with? Please, we both know that nobody else could fuck you like I could – they couldn’t love you like I love you”.

“You knew?”, Jack paled, the smirk falling off his face.

“Of course I fucking knew, you twat. For two years I’ve known, I’ve tried to put it out of my head – so can you fucking blame me for thinking the worst whenever you disap-fucking-pear?!”, Aaron spat. The venom in his voice made Jack die on the inside.

But Jack, instead of being defensive about it, just shrugged.

“He was a better fuck than you’ll ever be”. The words flew out of his mouth before the shorter man could stop them.

Aaron snapped his head up before he pushed Jack against the wall. Their teeth clanked together and the taste of metallic blood dripped into their mouth. The two of them were used to it by now; pain brought them pleasure. Their tongues battled against one another. Jack scraped his nails down the length of Aaron's back, and the Welshman hissed into their kiss, which allowed Jack to take control before Aaron hoisted his denim-clad legs around his waist. Aaron mouthed down his neck, leaving dark red marks along the pale throat as his teeth snagged the sensitive flesh of Jack's bobbing Adam's apple. Aaron managed to get them to the bedroom.

“You deserve this", Aaron whispered as he stripped Jack.

There would be no hand holding, no soft kisses and no declarations of love, just raw sadness and anger. Aaron threw his shirt into some corner of the room before he dragged his teeth down Jack's spine, biting painful marks along the supple skin. But Aaron's head wasn’t that clouded – even though Jack had hurt him, Aaron could never intentionally hurt him, not in any way that Jack wouldn’t like.

“If you want to say it, say it", Aaron growled.

Jack didn’t say anything; he just arched his hips up higher and rested his dark red head on his arms. Aaron took the lube from the nightstand and coated his fingers with it before slipping two in. His mind was racing – he didn’t know if Jack was loose from last night or from sometime today. All he did know, all he could hear, was the groans coming from the other man. He was biting into the black pillowcase. Aaron moved his fingers inside of the shorter man quickly and swiftly. They both knew each other inside out: That was one of the great things about them, but right now, that was the worst thing about them. Aaron's fingers spread him open enough for his hard cock in a matter of minutes. The only sounds in the room were heavy, thick breaths and the tear of the foil around the condom.

Aaron lubed himself up before he rolled on the condom and added some extra lube over it. He lined himself up with Jack's fluttering entrance. With one quick motion, Aaron was in Jack, his hand on the shorter man’s neck and pressing his head as he fucked into him roughly. Whimpers from both men filled the room, along with skin slamming against skin as Aaron snapped his hips into Jack. They moved slightly; Aaron was like a cage around Jack, who buried his head into the pillow. Aaron took hold of the Englishman's leaking cock and started jerking it in time with his thrusts. With the way Jack tightened around him after a while, Aaron knew that he was close, that both of them were close. Aaron continued to fuck into the shorter man, then he felt sticky come rope across his hand and Jack's toned stomach. Aaron continued with his thrusts, which became more erratic as he came close to his release. As he came, he bit deeply into the flesh around Jack's shoulder.

After spending a few minutes just kissing around the bite and running his tongue over the indentations, Aaron got up to get the wipes to clean both of them up. When Aaron made it back to the bed, he noticed that Jack was just sitting there, staring up at the pristine white ceiling, tears staining his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?”, Aaron whispered, thumbing away the tears. His mind wandered to the one thought that shook him to the core: Did he hurt Jack?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I can say, I love you so much”, Jack cried as he turned into Aaron's embrace.

“Shush, shush, babe, Jack... it’s okay. We’ll work it out. I love you, cub – just go to sleep for a while, okay?”, Aaron sighed before he nosed through Jack's sweat-dampened hair.

Aaron spent most of the evening watching Jack sleep. The little whimpers that escaped Jack’s mouth made him feel warm inside, as did the little twitches when Jack rolled closer to Aaron. Aaron kissed his forehead one final time before he closed his eyes.


	90. Adam Lallana/Jordan Henderson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is just cute fluff in regards to Adam's injury. It wasn't requested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing this.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this and by the time this goes up, I'll be back in school. I wish all of you that are starting a new term in school, collage or a course, the best of luck in your chosen field.

Jordan returned to his house after training. Adam had been staying with him for the last few days, as his injury was really starting to affect him. Jordan found Adam where he’d left him: lying on the sofa, one memory foam pillow under his head and another one propped under his strapped thigh. The younger man frowned – it actually didn’t look like Adam had moved since Jordan left that morning.

“Hey, babe", Jordan called as he leaned over the sofa and kissed the older man, their noses brushing softly.

“Hey, how was training?”, Adam asked. There was something in his voice that unsettled Jordan.

“You know, boring as fuck but funny occasionally. How was Netflix?”, Jordan wondered as he sat on the coffee table.

“Meh. I spent most of my time watching Pirates of the Caribbean – I’ve got a man crush on all things Orlando", Adam shrugged as he shifted.

“What’s wrong?”, Jordan asked immediately.

“Nothing, it’s just very painful today – even walking to the kitchen from here was a nightmare. I don’t understand why one of us always has to be injured; if it’s not me, it’s you. It’s not fair. December is a long time away, Jords. I’m just going to have to sit here and watch from the sofa. It’s not fair”, Adam grumbled, his face contorted into one of pain.

“Stay here, I’ll go get the ice pack and the tablets”. Jordan kissed the older man’s poofy hair before he walked to the kitchen.

Adam's mind angered at the sight of Jordan walking fine, no burning pain in this thigh, not a throb that Adam swore he felt on top of the inflamed hot flesh. Jordan reappeared in a few minutes with an ice pack wrapped in a tea towel, a bottle of water and a card of tablets. Jordan sat down beside Adam after handing him the bottle of water and tablets, then pressing the ice pack into the covered skin. Adam hissed for a few seconds before Jordan shot him an apologetic look. The tow of them sat back; Adam's leg was resting on Jordan, who still held the ice pack to it.

“It’ll be fine, you know”, Jordan smiled before he moved one of his hands to lace their fingers together.

“I don’t know, Jordan. I just want to go out and play – and instead I’m stuck in here, watching Netflix or films, or playing PlayStation. Do you know how tiring it all gets?”, Adam sighed as his eyes slipped closed.

“I’ve been in your shoes so many times, Ads, yet somehow the both of us always manage to fight back against it. We’ve just been unlucky. There are players like that – good players who deserve better than to always be injured”.

“But now you’ll be gone for internationals and I’ll be stuck here, watching it in either your house or my house. Then the Champions League arrives and I’ll be left sitting here, watching it – and I should be playing in it, but I’m not”, Adam sighed, his eyes were still closed.

“I know, Ads, but think of the positives. You won’t be freezing your balls off – you can stay nice and cosy right here. I know how much you want to play, all of the guys do, but some things are more important than playing football. If you don’t let this heal on its own, on its time, it’ll always hurt. And I hate seeing you like this. I want to make it better, but I know I can’t; all I can do is sit here and make you comfortable. I hate seeing what being injured does to you because I can’t fix it”, Jordan admitted as he kissed the back of Adam’s hand.

“I love you, too. I wish I wasn’t injured, but I’m just going to have to accept it, aren’t I?”, Adam mumbled.

The two of them didn’t speak for a little while longer. Adam had switched on an episode of The Defenders, so they sat and watched it together. Jordan took his eyes off the screen for a few seconds and a smile blossomed on his face: Adam had fallen asleep nestled in his hoodie. Jordan continued to run his fingers up and down the pale leg as Adam slept. Jordan quickly reached for the remote and turned on a film for him to watch; it wasn’t like he could move, anyway.


	91. Eric Dier/Jan Vertonghen/Toby Alderwiereld

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of my more, stranger pairings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this, I had a lot of fun writing this. 
> 
> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing this. Thank you to Mariothellama for always having beautiful comments, you've been so kind

Toby could see the annoyance that rolled off of Jan's tense body in the car. He hated It. He couldn’t do anything. His alpha was sitting there, cursing UEFA into a blue knot. Eric picked up on it, too, something that wasn’t great at this particular time. The silence stretched for a long time, until they finally stopped outside of Toby’s house. The three of them retreated inside. Eric sat in between them, fingers gingerly running through Jan's hair.

 

“It wasn’t a red”, Eric whispered, kissing at Jan’s clothed shoulder.

 

“It really wasn’t, Jan, it was an accident”, Toby nodded.

 

“It wasn't a red, you idiots, do you ever pay attention? It was a second yellow”, Jan snapped, pulling away from Eric, much to the younger man’s sadness.

 

“Alright, Mister ‘I nearly knocked out someone’s teeth before their wedding’, no need to get snappy”, Toby growled before he dragged Eric into his embrace, nuzzling at the side of the omega’s neck.

 

“Fuck off, you’re meant to be on my side. But of course you're not, I'm always the one at fault. So just fuck off and leave me the fuck alone”, Jan muttered as he stood up, walking out of the room.

 

Eric whimpered pitifully before Toby nosed through his hair. He liked it better when it was a bit longer: there was more to hold onto, more to run his fingers through to calm his pretty boy.

 

“You know he’s just moody”, Toby whispered. “He didn’t mean it”.

 

“But, he sounded so angry”, Eric whispered. He tried swallowing down the crack in his voice, but it just made it more obvious.

 

“Well, he’s a dick. He’s not mad at you, how could he be?”, Toby wondered, dragging his thumb over Eric's lip.

 

The younger man pressed a kiss to the pad of the digit before he sighed contentedly. The two of then stayed like that for a while, trading the occasional kiss, before Eric stood up.

 

“Shower?”. The omega raised an eyebrow.

 

“Later, I’m going to talk to Jan”.

 

Eric nodded before he kissed the top of Toby’s head. “Your loss".

 

Eric sauntered away and Toby couldn’t help but laugh. Whenever it came to Eric's heat, or lack thereof, he became a very huggy person who got offended at the smallest thing. Toby remembers one time, he thinks they were playing United, when Eric sat for forty minutes, staring at the kettle in the hotel room because he couldn’t get it to work. Toby and Jan walked in on Eric crying, all because he couldn't make hot chocolate. Although, because of the suppressants, most of the other symptoms were cut out, minus horrific cramps.

 

But, at the minute Toby had more pressing matters: The very pissed off Alpha that would definitely be fuming on their bed, anger coursing through him. But Toby wouldn’t let him get away with being a dickhead, no, not to Eric anyway. Toby strolled to the bedroom; down the hall he heard the water from the shower hitting the trey.

 

“You're a little cunt, do you know that?”, Toby snapped as he ripped the duvet cocoon away from the older alpha.

 

“Fuck off, Toby”. Jan grabbed the duvet back.

 

“No, I will not. Be a twat to me all you want, don’t bring Eric into this, understand?”. Toby's anger knew no bounds when it came to Eric, even if Jan was the culprit.

 

“He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself”, Jan retorted.

 

Toby faltered. Did he really just say that? Guess Jan was even more of an idiot than he realised.

 

“So help me, if you don’t apologize to him the second he gets out of that shower, I will make sure that you don’t even get to look at him for the next week. You’ve hurt him, and you had to pick this week to do it”. Toby hoped that made the older man remember.

 

“It’s not, it can’t be”. Jan banged his head into the pillow.

 

“Too caught up in the fact that you’ll be banned for a match? You’ll be back against Madrid, so what does it even matter? It was an accident, everybody knows it. Time to get over it", Toby sighed. He sat on the bed.

 

“Sorry, Tobes, I’m such a shit boyfriend”, Jan sighed as he moved closer to the warmer body, resting his head in Toby's thigh.

 

“No, you’re not. You just get moody every so often. You need to apologise to Eric, though. I've dealt with your shit long enough to know that you didn't mean it. But you know what Eric gets like”. Toby dropped his head down to the older man’s shoulder.

 

The two of them rearranged their bodies before Eric came back to the room, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Tentatively, Eric sat on the bed beside Jan, who turned to the shorter man.

 

“Sorry, ‘Ric. I didn’t mean it”, Jan whispered.

 

“It’s okay”, Eric shrugged as he melted into Jan's embrace.

 

Toby smirked from the other side of the bed before he hooked his chin over Jan's shoulder. Eric was nearly asleep, the low drone of Jan’s heart working better than any song had. They'd stay like this for a while, but then they’d have to wake up and get something to eat. It didn't matter what they did, as long as they did it together.


	92. Julian Brandt/Kevin Volland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Eafay70 for betaing this.

“Kev? Why are you in my house?”, Julian called as he walked through the open front door.

 

He assumed it was Kevin – he was the only one with a key apart from his mam, and he was fucked if it was her. The number ten had just gotten back from the shops so his hands were a little full.

 

“In here". So it was Kevin.

 

“Want to come help me with the shopping? And then you can tell me why you’re here?”, Julian called.

 

Kevin appeared by the time he finished his sentence. They greeted one another with a small hug and a quick brush of lips.

 

“Missed you", Kevin whispered before he took one of the bags.

 

“I saw you at training. Why are you here?”, Julian wondered as he followed the older man into the kitchen.

 

“I’ll explain that in a minute, we have to put the stuff in the freezer”, Kevin jittered.

 

They chatted softly, mainly about their cohorts and training and how lovesick a certain goalkeeper was being. Like, he had it bad.

 

“Promise me we won’t turn into he who shall not be named”, Kevin whispered before he slid his arms around Julian.

 

“What’s wrong? You be been acting weird and now you’re starting to worry me”, Julian frowned into the older man’s neck.

 

“Well, I may or may not have been stuck in my bathroom with a huge spider and then I couldn’t find it. That's the worst. So then I grabbed some clothes and ran. But while I was in the bathroom, fearing for my life, I was thinking about you and it made me realise something. I love you”, Kevin grinned.

 

He felt Julian still in his arms, his body turning to stone as though it had been petrified by Medusa herself. Julian took a steep back, his heart racing. Had he heard correctly? All of the anxiety, trepidation and fear melted when Kevin grinned, his eyes shining like a diamond under moonlight, beautiful and awe-inspiring.

 

“I love you too, Kev”, Julian smiled. His face hurt from how wide he was smiling.

 

Kevin dragged him closer, connecting their lips together slowly. Love seeped into their bodies and burned through their stomachs, but it was pleasant, warming and made both of them feel content.

 

“I love you a lot more than you could know, but I’m annoyed that it took a spider to get you to realise it”, Julian laughed into the darker-haired man’s chest.

 

“It was a big spider. It wasn’t cute and adorable like you – it was mean and ugly, with eight fucking legs”.

 

“It's a spider, Kevin, of course it had eight legs. That's the point", Julian joked.

 

“Well, until you go to my apartment and kill it, I’ll be staying here. You're the one stuck with me”, Kevin laughed.

 

“Give me the jet and I’ll go kill it. You're too much to deal with without you living here”, Julian grinned before he kissed the older man again. “I love you”.

 

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that come from your pretty little mouth”. Kevin punctuated each word with a kiss.

 

Julian rolled his eyes. He really was lucky to love this adorable fluff of a man. He was everything to Julian; he held him together and put him back together. He was the other part of him, the part that he needed to survive. Julian was the flower, a beautiful but dangerous milkweed with a deadly centre, but he couldn’t survive without his roots, just like he couldn’t survive without Kevin. Everything needed something to ground them, to hold them, to love them. Julian was just lucky his was a person who needed him for the same thing.


	93. Eric Dier/Jan Vertonghen/Toby Alderwiereld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: There is distressing themes such as metal ilness and self harm, if you may be offended it hurt by these, please do not read this story. Thank you.
> 
> This has to be one of the most personal stories I've written in a long time, I was in a bad place when I wrote this. I'm not posing this for sympathy or anything like That, I'm posting this to show the world the struggle that people live with. If you find yourself feeling any of these, please, no matter how proud you are, seek help, be it in a trusted friend or a doctor.
> 
> Dear Eafay70, you've been my rock for nearly a year now, you say you polish my raw jewls, I think you've been slowly putting me back together. Thank you for that. 
> 
> To Mariothellama, your works have helped me through tough times like this, especially your Marco and Robert works. Your kind comments have always enough a smile to my face so thank you so much for that.

The thoughts in his head wouldn’t stop, no matter how much he slept, drank or tried to ignore them. They were constant, clawing in the back of his head like razor blades; what they said cut deeper than any knife could. Still, Eric went on, a vicious circle of knowing what he was doing was detrimental to his health, but there was something in there, something that made it feel worthwhile. His fingertips were white, his eyes were red as the tears slid down his cheeks, yet they felt cold, everything was cold now. Dark. Empty. It was as though somebody had stripped him of every feeling in his body except pain – pain kept him alive, it kept him going. His left hand stung as bright red blood dripped from his closed fist, it painted the white porcelain an ugly colour.

 

Eric's thoughts ran to what the others would say if they saw him like this: weak, broken, pathetic. He deserved this, he did this to himself. He pushed them away because he was toxic to them; if he was going down he wasn’t dragging them with him. He wouldn’t use them as a raft to keep himself afloat. He’d rather sink than let them see him like this. Why him? Why did he have to be the broken one, so broken that he could never be put back together? Eric cast his eyes from the blood-stained sink to the mirror, his face bad, ugly and splotchy from the tears, angry red spots mixed in with stark white patches.

 

Worthless. Pathetic. Laughing stock. Those words played in Eric’s head, until he grew tired of their incessant rambling. But it was almost as though the mirror was taunting him; Eric never looked in the mirror anymore, too scared of what he might see. But now, he was staring it in the face. He was a shell of what he had been, it was a long year of fake smiles and broken laughs that meant nothing. Secretly, something deep in him knew that some of the others knew. But the majority of Eric realised that they didn’t care – if they did, why would they leave him in this life, a cloud of dark despair constantly hanging over his head. He was tired, he had run for long enough, now the cloud slowly enveloped him.

 

He never even realised that he was pulling his fist back before the shards of the broken glass splintered in his skin, causing thin rivers of blood to flow. They stung like a wasp sting; the blood glittered almost beautifully, inviting him down the rabbit hole. His blood, no matter how crazy it may sound, reminded Eric that he had survived another day, that there was still a part of him that hadn’t been swallowed by the pain, the way the blood moved along his skin was almost comforting. He shrugged at the stings as he turned on the tap and watched as his very essence washed down the drain with water. Some of the blood from earlier had almost dried into the sink; that left an almost yellow brown stain behind as it all whirled down the drain.

 

Eric walked away. He’d clean up later, he’d buy a new mirror – it’s not like he didn’t have the money. Yet all the money in the world couldn’t fix him, nothing could. He was too proud to admit that he needed help, too angry to accept it when either Jan or Toby brought it up. He had pushed them away. Over the last two months it had gotten so much worse: he went to training, he came home, he played the match. That was it. He ignored phone calls and texts for days, and none of them ever brought it up. He was convinced that Toby and Jan, and Dele, Harry, Sonny, all of them really, thought he deserves this. He was the spoilt brat that was never happy, that had pushed them away because he knew he wasn’t good enough for them.

 

His routine at home had grown, too: He’d force himself to eat something, then he’d drink whatever he could find – whiskey, vodka, rum, or all three – then he’d sleep. He’d wake up with bloodshot eyes and a headache from hell and nothing would have changed, but at least he couldn’t remember what was going on inside his head. Except, he could. He always could. No matter how much Eric slept, he was still exhausted and could barely function. So now, he was completing his ritual. He’d eaten earlier – more like forced the food down his throat, because everything tasted the same. He looked around his house; the place was somehow still nearly organised, the bottle of vodka was half empty on the side of the TV stand. Without a thought, Eric grabbed it in the uncut hand. He figured he’d have to bandage it later; he’d come up with some excuse for tomorrow's training session.

 

He tipped the bottle to his lips. It didn’t burn like it used to; now it just warmed his eternally cold body and pooled in the pit of his stomach. After a while it just became some thing to do to pass the time. By the time he had about a quarter of the bottle left, his vision was blurring; he realised then that maybe it was a bad idea to have finished off the whisky when he got home. Still, now he welcomed sleep like an old friend – at least time would pass.

 

 

The two of them were in the car. Jan was driving, his fingers laced with Toby’s as the younger man blinked away the remaining tears.

 

“It’s going to be okay”, Jan sighed; he was still convincing himself that it would be.

 

“Every other time we’ve tried this, we’ve been told where to go”.

 

“This time is different, Tobe, you known it is. We have to get him to talk to somebody – I don’t know who, but there has to be somebody. Poch said he’d do it if Eric agreed to it, nobody else would know except the four of us. We know he needs help, he’s just too proud and stubborn to admit it”.

 

“We can’t lose him; I can’t imagine a world without him now that we have him. He’s as much a part of me as you are”. Toby gave up trying to hold the tears back; they rolled softly, leaving wet marks behind them.

 

“We're not going to lose him, I promise. I’m not going to let that happen. We'll find a way to get through to him. I love you”, Jan swallowed.

 

The last ten minutes of the drive were silent. Toby held on to Jan’s hand as though he was going to fall from the earth itself. He only let go of Jan's hand when it was time to get out. He took his key from his pocket, turned it in the lock and slowly pushed the door open. Neither Toby nor Jan knew what to expect.

 

“Oh, Eric”, Jan whispered, his voice cracking into a thousand shards.

 

They moved over to his sleeping form silently. Toby took his bloodied hands in his own. Jan walked to the bathroom to get the bandages, he nearly cried when he saw the carnage in the sink. He swallowed down the whimper before he walked back to Toby.

 

“This is going to need stiches”, Jan commented as he carefully bandaged and plastered the cuts. He wasn’t proud of how many times he had done this for Eric; he started blaming himself after a while.

 

“Should we wake him up?”. Toby was running his fingers through the cropped hair.

 

Jam nodded as he tucked the bandage into his hand. Slowly, Toby shook him awake. Eric growled once his eyes resisted the bright light.

 

“Why are you here?”, Eric all but snarled at the pair. He sat up straight, his vision dotted.

 

“To try and help, Eric. Please just listen to us”, Toby begged.

 

“Fine”.

 

“I know you won’t talk to a stranger about this, ’Ric, but you have to talk to somebody – it’s getting too dangerous. You won’t talk to us – hell, you barely look at us now – but will you talk to Poch? Please, we all just want to see you better; even if you’ll never be a hundred percent, it has to be better than this”, Jan implored, taking one of the bandaged hands.

 

“Why do you even care? I’m not important, I’m just here”, Eric whispered.

 

“Never say that again. I care, we care. You're tearing yourself apart, and one day I’m terrified that I’m going to walk in here and you’re not going to be here anymore. I’m terrified that I’m going to find you in the exact same position that I found you in today, except what if next time you aren’t breathing? What if you’ve cut too deep or you’ve choked on your own vomit? So don’t you try and tell me that nobody cares, because you’re a part of me, Eric – you matter to each of us. That might not help you now, but you know it will. We’re all here for you. Please, just get help”. Toby was begging him, his own heart in tatters, and Eric started to cry again.

 

The youngest man never realised he could mean that much to a person. Yet, now here was quite possibly the strongest person Eric knew, crying in case Eric hurt himself too much, in case Eric wasn’t around to see him smile, to see them achieve great things together.

 

“I just want it to stop. I’m desperate now; I thought I could handle it myself, but I can’t. I’m sorry”, Eric hiccupped. Now his tears burned like little sacks of acid.

 

“So you’ll talk to Poch?”, Jan whispered as he cradled his head. Toby was sitting on the other side of him, holding on to him for dear life.

 

“I’ll try”, Eric breathed before he cried again.

 

Toby and Jan held him as close as they could; they’d bring him home tonight. Talking wouldn't cure anything, but now, Eric knew he wasn’t alone. This was the first step, the first of many, but they'd take them together. They’d get through it, no matter how many backwards steps there would be.


	94. Joe Hart/Eric Dier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This further continued my series, proving that it is possible for Eric to be shipped with anybody. The next person may just Harry.

“You’re very lucky Eric”, Joe grumbled, as he pushed the younger man into the wall. 

It was half time and conceding just before the break was never good, especially if you were only leading by one. 

“More like your shitty clearance Hart”, Eric challenged, staring up into bright eyes. 

“Woeful defending”, Joe smirked before he slotted a knee between Eric’s legs, his lips falling on the younger man’s. 

A pitiful whine escaped from the younger man’s lips before Joe took a step back. 

“We have a match to go win Dier, maybe then, if we don’t concede, you’ll get your reward”, Joe grinned, kissing him harshly again, swallowing his moans as he worked his fingers over the bulge in his shorts. 

“Joe, don’t, please”, Eric whined, his tongue just peaking out over kiss bitten lips. 

“Ball’s at your feet”, Joe muttered, kissing the side of his head. 

The goalkeeper walked away, seeming unaffected by the wholes thing. Well for fucking some. It took Eric everything to get the erection down but when he did, he walked out and took his seat beside Dele. 

“You alright mate?”, his best friend wondered” you’re a bit flushed”. 

“I’m fine”, Eric dismissed. 

The goalkeeper was staring at him, a smirk firmly in place on his lips. Eric loved it, being up against a hard body, being man handled, the Euro qualifications had shown that. Eric, not a good time to be thinking about your lips wrapped around Joe Hart’s cock now is it? They were getting ready to come out when Eric felt somebody nip at his ear, risky. 

“Remember, conceding means no fucking. No fucking means no touching you which means no orgasm for Eric”, Joe breathed out. 

Eric felt his knees go weak, it’s okay, he and Dele were sharing anyway, he’d just ignore the goalkeeper. Like that would happen. In the end they won the match 1-0, which meant no conceding which meant that Eric would be fucked tonight. Joe was very quick to remind him of that, biting at the side of his neck when everybody else was to busy. The two of them were always the fastest to get ready out of the rest of them, so they headed out to the bus that would bring them back to the hotel. 

“You excited Dier?”, Joe teased as he sat in beside him. 

“For what?”, Eric cocked his head to side, the bus was in darkness it was only the two of them. 

“How long do you think the others will be in the shower? Or with Gareth? I bet, because we both know that you definitely don’t last that long then my tongue goes here”, Joe whispered, his fingers slipping under the waistband of Eric’s shorts, his thumb running over the slit. 

“Fuck, Jesus”, Eric moaned before Joe lifted up his hips to pull them down slightly. 

“More like Joe”, The keeper smirked before he took Eric in his mouth, swallowing around him.

"Really? I thought it was Charles", Eric breathed

Yeah, this was a really awkward angle but it was fine Eric would be coming soon anyway, he never lasted long when it was Joe’s mouth, that mouth was beautiful. So hot, so tight around him as his tongue flicked against the slit at the top. Joe pulled off for a second, allowing whatever spit that had collected to fall onto Eric before he jerked him a few timed, broking him close to the edge before he finished him off with his mouth. Moaning abound it as he felt Eric’s hands knot in his hair. Joe licked up any of the remaining come before he kissed Eric, his tongue moving past his bitten lips to allow the younger man to taste himself. Eric was completely dazed as Joe pulled his shorts back up and used this thumb to rub over his cheek bone. Eric’s head had fallen to his lovers chest, Joe responded by wrapping an arm around him. He grabbed the bottle of water and took a long drag. 

He looked down at Eric, who yeah, was asleep. Joe was casually, as casually as you could considering what he’d just done, playing with his hair as the others got on the bus. 

“I was wondering where you two went”, Dele muttered. 

“Cub got tired didn’t he, thought he was meant to be a young one?”, Joe shrugged as Dele sat in front of them. 

“If you say so Hart”, Dele grinned. 

The journey to the hotel took about half an hour so to make sure that Eric was fully functional he woke him up around five minutes before that. 

“Come on Cub, either you wake up or I’m leaving you on the bus”, Joe whispered, his nose buried in Eric’s still damp hair. 

“Go away, comfy”, Eric whined, burying his head closer to Joe. 

“Aw shit mate, these are so coming out on your birthday”, Dele smirked as he took a few pictures of the two of them. 

“Dele”, Eric moaned as he sat back into his seat” we're not even outside of the hotel”. 

“Five minutes”, Joe shrugged. 

“Five more minutes of sleep”, Eric replied, resisting his head back into the crook of the older man’s shoulder. 

“I don’t think that’s how this works Dier. You want to be fucked tonight don’t you? Well then you’re going to have to stay awake”, Joe whispered into his ear, his voice causing all of Eric’s hair to stand on edge. 

So Eric stayed awake, of course he did. He stayed with Joe too, went back to his hotel room with him. Now Eric wasn’t a small man, he was tall and built solid, but Joe, Joe still had the power to have him up against the wall in a minute, the younger man’s legs wrapping around his waist. 

“You were beautiful out there. So beautiful, my Eric, my cub”, Joe smiled, nosing at his neck, pressing small kisses into the skin. 

“Why do you keep calling me Cub?”, Eric mumbled before he felt his back hit the bed. 

“Because you’re small and golden and mine”, Joe kissed him passionately, rubbing their crotches together. 

“It’s harder to be taller than you than it is to be smaller”, Eric said defensively before Joe stripped him. 

“All it means is that you can fit in my arms perfectly”, Joe smiled before he speak the lube on his fingers. 

Now their morning activities would mean that Eric wouldn’t need that much prep, Joe easily slid one finger in and added in a second, scissoring them to spread Eric a little wider. Eric’s face was buried in a pillow, trying to smother out his moans as he came on his stomach because Joe wouldn’t stop stroking. 

“Joe, please. Babe, please”, Eric whined because he didn’t stop. 

Joe kissed him on the fore head before he lubed himself up and rolled on the condom. His tongue was moving over Eric’s as he pushed into him, fucking in and out, the younger man was a moaning mess. Soon enough Eric was coming for the first time since the match was over 

“Feel good Eric? You like it? I know you do I know, you’re insatiable”, Joe smirked. 

“Joe, I wanna, please. I want’. 

“You have to tell me what you want or you can’t have it Eric”, Joe whispered. 

“ I wanna taste you please, I want you in my mouth”, Eric moaned. 

“I suppose I can do that”, Joe kissed him sweetly, pulling out. 

Joe took the condom off and jerked his cock a few times before Eric moved. Joe lay on the flat of his back and watched as Eric took it in his mouth, his pretty pink lips moving down the shaft. The area that Eric couldn’t get his mouth around, that was being jerked and moved causing the goalkeeper to thread his fingers into the golden hair. 

“So good Eric, feels so good”, Joe groaned. 

It took Joe a lot longer to come but what drove him over the edge was when he started to jerk Eric’s cock between his legs. The younger man was moaning and the vibrations went right through Joe as he pulled Eric up to kiss him. The younger man was completely fucked out of it, he kissed back a happy smile on his face before he swallowed the come in his mouth. 

“My body hurts”, Eric complained. 

“Bath?”. 

Eric nodded and a few minutes late he felt himself being carried into the bathroom and slowly submerged into the hot water. Joe slid in behind him wrapping an arm around his stomach. 

“Joe”, Eric’s voice was small and quiet. 

“Yes cub?”, Joe kissed the side of his sweaty hair. 

“I love you and I’m terrified”, Eric whispered. 

“I think I’ve love you since the first night you played in front of me Eric. I’m scared too”, Joe responded before he kissed his neck.


	95. Marcus Rashford/Jesse Lingard

“Stop hogging all the hot water, Lithuania is fucking cold”, Jesse whined as he stripped.

 

“You snooze, you lose, Lingard”, Marcus grinned before he flicked some of the scalding water onto Jesse's near naked body.

 

“Well, I just happened to be dreaming of you”, Jesse whispered before he sank into the younger man’s arms.

 

“Really? What were you dreaming about?”, Marcus wondered before he took a hand full of water and dropped it into Jesse's hair.

 

“The Europa League, actually”. Jesse had a cheeky grin on his face.

 

“Too bad you won’t be getting fucked tonight, then, I’m tired. I just want to soak and sleep”.

 

“What about a suck, soak and a sleep?”.

 

“You’re the biggest fucking chancer I know, and that's saying something. The best you’re getting tonight is a cuddle and maybe a kiss", Marcus sighed, his hand rubbing soothing patterns into Jesse's chest.

 

“I love you”, Jesse yawned as he turned his head to catch the younger man’s mouth in a soft kiss.

 

“Love you too Jess”, Marcus beamed before he kissed the exposed pink flesh of Jesse's neck.

 

The pair stayed like that for a long time, trading the occasional kiss and soft caress as the water cooled around them. Jesse got out first; he wrapped one of the towels that had been left on the heating rack to the side. Marcus nearly fell flat on his face when he got out of the bath, his feet moving like a new-born foal. Luckily, Jesse saw and caught him.

 

“Even after I save your life, we don’t get any victory sex?”, Jesse frowned.

 

“Nope, you remember what happened the last time. We've just lived it down. You can wait until we get back to Manchester, I’ll make it worth your while”, Marcus grinned, mouthing at the older man’s shoulder.

 

“You're lucky I like you”.

 

“Only like? I thought you loved me”. Marcus even added in the little lip wobble.

 

“Okay them, I love you”, Jesse winked before they walked back to the main part of the room.

 

The two of them got dressed in silence. The room was still cold even though the heating was on; Lithuania was fucking freezing. Together, they curled under the duvet and found the episode of American Horror Story that they were watching. Marcus was genuinely shocked when Jesse didn’t jump with fear at the pop-out bits.

 

“I’m too happy to let Twisty the Clown fuck with me", were the words he spoke when asked. Marcus shrugged.

 

They had finished episode four. Just as the tittle card for five ran over the screen, they heard noise from the room net door: Jack and Joe's room. The Manchester pair didn’t say anything – they were probably arguing over something, probably over the fact that Joe had to freeze his balls off on the bench. But as time progressed, they starting making louder noise, almost as though they were moving something heavy and wood-like.

 

“Are they fucking?”. Marcus's voice was barely above a whisper and beginning to get drowned out by the sounds.

 

“That’s definitely a headboard moving. They are definitely fucking. By the sounds of it, Joe's having a good time”, Jesse wheezed. He was laughing too hard.

 

“Oh my god, I want to be deaf”.

 

“If they're fucking, why can’t we?”. Jesse was pouting now, fingers drawing patterns on Marcus's chest.

 

“Because I’m not fucking you while I’m listening to them fuck. You nasty”.

 

“Whatever. If you make it worth my while, I’ll wait until we get back home".

 

“What is it?”.

 

“Can we go embarrass them? Because they fuck really, really loudly”, Jesse shivered; he didn’t want the mental image, but he had it.

 

“I’m down with making Joe's life a living hell – he still reminds us about Scotland. Dipshit”, Marcus grumbled.

 

The two of them stood up and pulled on their jackets. Marcus took the keycard and the pair walked out into the hall, bare feet moving through the red carpet. Jesse took great pleasure in knocking on the door. There was a grin blossoming on his face.

 

“Just, give us a minute”, Jack called, his voice cracking gently.

 

It took nearly ten minutes for the two goalkeepers to answer the door. They didn’t look impressed when they saw Marcus and Jesse.

 

“How the fuck can we help you?”, Joe snapped.

 

“Stop fucking so loudly, this is worse that Scotland”, Marcus whispered furiously, his cheeks tinging red at the mention of the country.

 

“Excuse me, but we’re not screaming out because we’re fucking each other in the bathroom”, Jack pointed out. He was nuzzling into the side of Joe's neck.

 

“Fuck you”, Jesse pouted.

 

“Actually, I’m fucking him”, Jack grinned.

 

“Dickhead”, Joe muttered.

 

“You love me anyway”, Jack stuck his tongue out at the older keeper.

 

“Suppose. Now can you two fuck off?”, Joe sighed, turning his attention back to the other two.

 

“Just stop fucking so loudly then, or I’ll make sure you never forget it”, Marcus threatened, a coy grin on his face.

 

“Bigger men than you have threatened that, Mar, it won’t work this time”, Joe laughed, petting the youngest man on the head.

 

“He’s mine to pet, nobody else’s”, Jesse narrowed his eyes.

 

“Well, go pet him, then; I have something much better to be doing”, Jack shrugged before he and Joe took a step back. The wooden door clicked into place.

 

“That was fucking rude”, Jesse called.

 

Jesse and Marcus went back to the comfort and warmth of their own bed. The laptop was between them and the headboard was still banging against the wall, then the two on the other side of them started. Except both headboards were back to back, so it felt like somebody was pushing the stupid wall into their bed.

 

“I fucking hate Harry and Eric”, Marcus sighed as he turned the volume up to full.

 

“That could be us”, Jesse reminded him before he was shot a look. “Okay, forget I said anything”.

 

So they had to spend all night being stuck between the horniest couples that England had. The joys


	96. Joe Hart/Jack Butland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this for a very long time, and originally I want going to play it, but I said feck it. Hope you enjoy this unusual pairing.

A few of the older players knew what to expect when Jack got called up for the qualifiers and friendlies, a hot and hostile experience. A few of the players didn’t know what it meant, the constant digs and arguing between the two goalkeepers, then again nobody knew the exact nature of their relationship.

“Hope you have fun warming the bench pretty boy”, Joe smirked. 

“It will be you’re ass on the bench Hart, is Napoli still haunting your dreams?”, Jack taunted, dragging his fingers down the older man’s arm. 

“Fuck you”. 

“I might just do that later Joe”, Jack grinned before he kissed him. 

The groan that left the younger man’s mouth almost made Joe feel bad, almost. He shoved him against the wall roughly. 

“You know, last time we fucked before a match I went and broke my ankle, I don’t you to break my back”, Jack winced. 

“You’re a shit do you know that? I don’t know why I put up with you for the amount of times I do. Why can’t you just be normal Jack when we’re here?”, Joe grumbled before he bit at his neck, marking up the pale skin. 

“I don’t know what you mean, but unless you have new kneecap that is in a place it shouldn’t be, why don’t be go back to our room before you tell the whole fucking team that we do just that?”, Jack raised an eyebrow as he rightness his hand around the back of Joe’s neck. 

“Who said I was going to fuck you Jack?”.

“Please, as if you could resist fucking me”, Jack grinned, kissing he older man quickly. 

“That’s true, I love how everybody thinks we hate each other, I mean when you’re here, then I don’t like you. That spot is mine”, Joe growled. 

“Not anymore Joe, I’m back and we’ll fight it out if we have to”, Jack whispered against his lips. 

“It’ll be me between the sticks and your pretty face on the bench love, accept it”. 

“Do you know what? I don’t know if I want you to fuck me, I might just fuck you so hard that you can’t walk, then I’ll play and you’ll be on the bench”. 

“Now look at you just giving me ideas, thanks for that Jack, now let’s go”, Joe grinned before he basically dragged the younger man into their room. 

He pushed Jack onto the closest bed before he ripped off their clothes, kissing a few of the spotty bruises on the younger man’s chest. Joe pulled back to look at him 

“Did I cause these or?”. 

“Well considering you have a tenancy to bite me, I think you caused some of them, not that one though, that was a goalpost”, Jack pointed to the large one on his shoulder. 

“I don’t know why I love you”, Joe kissed his forehead. 

“Because you do”. 

“That makes no sense”. 

“Lovey dovey stuff later, fuck me”, Jack whined scratched his nails down the length of Joe’s back. 

Joe kissed him in response before he reached into the drawer to pull out the bottle of lube, he sat back on his heels before he put some on his fingers and spread it around Jack’s entrance before he gently worked a finger into the tight passage. He moved it around slowly at first before he added in the second, spreading them wide and fast opening Jack up slightly, knowing that the younger man loved the burn of stretching around Joe’s cock. 

“So good, that’s enough in want you, need you”, Jack breathed out as Joe ran over his prostate, a smirk on his lips. 

“I get to dictate when you’re prepped enough Jack, it’s been a while since I’ve fucked you, I’m going to take my time, I’m going to make you forget everything except my name”, Joe mumbled as he jerked the younger man’s cock a few times before he stopped moving completely. 

“What name is that? Joe or Charles?”. 

“You’re a prick”, Joe shook his head before he stroked Jack over the edge, his come gathering on his stomach in white strips. 

“Joe”, Jack whined as he pulled the older man back up to kiss him messily” please”.

“Do you know how much I love seeing you beg? It’s beautiful really, you’re beautiful. I love you, I might not say it often but I do”, Joe whispered before he nosed at the side of Jack’s neck. 

“You said it earlier, I never get two I love yous in one say unless something has gone very wrong or very right”, Jack whimpered. 

“It’s going very good, I’m with you again. You have no idea how bad it is, I miss you so much., I miss my little Jack. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t just love you,, I’m in love with you Jack”, Joe smiled, pressing soft kisses into the skin. 

“I love you too, more than you know. Ever since that night you pinned me up in the locker room, mine, for a very long time”, Jack breathed before he kissed Joe, poring ever feeling he had into the kiss. 

When Joe pulled back he couldn’t stop himself from stroking his thumb over the kiss bitten lips, he used his free hand to prep himself haphazardly, because putting lube one with one hand was hard. Jack spread his legs a little wider as Joe moved inside of him, the blunt head of his cock hitting his prostate with every thrust.

“Joe, fuck. Fuck, I forgot how sore this was”, Jack ground out, digging his nails in Joe’s back. 

“I’ll stop if you want”, but Joe had a feeling he knew the answer. 

“Like hell you will”, Jack growled as he hacked his ankles around Joe’s back, bringing them impossibly close. 

Joe knew Jack well enough by now, he knew the signs of when his lover, boyfriend or whatever label they would put on this, was nearing his climax. He knew from the laboured breathing, or the way his teeth snagged on his already red lips, from the creases on his forehead and from the way he tightened around him. And Joe Hart in all his essence loved ever piece of it. 

“You ready Jack? I know you are, you want to come so much but you won’t,not until I say you can. Go on love, come for me again”, Joe whispered. 

For Jack, through was the last thing he remember a art from the blinding heat and the groan that was swallowed by Joe’s hungry mouth. He held something cold and wet against his stomach and then something soft against his head. 

“Come on love, I’m good but not coma inducing”, Joe joked as he peppered the flush skin with kisses. 

The elder was on his side while Jack was flat on his back. Jack didn’t say a word as he curled around Joe, pressing a kiss to the bottom of his throat, feeling a pair of lips in his own hair in response. 

“They’re gonna think we killed each other with all of the marks”, Joe grinned. 

“Let them, you’re mine Hart, nobody else’s. I love you”, Jack yawned. 

Joe pulled the blanket up over them before he threw his arm over Jack, his lips on his forehead. 

“Go to sleep Jack, everything will be fine in the morning. I love you too”, Joe promised.


	97. Eric Dier/Harry Kane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I keep using Eric for all these, but I do. But I was not in s good place when I wrote this
> 
> I have some free time coming up for Halloween break so I hope to get the requests done then. If you have any pairings, let me know

He was distancing himself. It was becoming harder to know what was real and what wasn't. He could love them one second and want to tear them apart the next. They didn’t understand it, they accepted it. That just angered him more – he wanted them to fight, he wanted them to snap at him, just to give him an excuse to fight back. They all noticed the erratic changes in his behaviour, from hour to hour, or week to week. It all just depended. He hated himself just as much as others hated him; if he made fun of himself, it wouldn’t sting when the others did it. It hurt all the same, but he’d come to enjoy the sting. College was stressing him out. He was young and he was fearing for the future. How could he be a doctor if he wouldn’t admit that he needed help? He couldn't, and that scared him more than anything.

 

He shared an apartment with Sonny, Ben, Dele and Harry. They all noticed his behaviour within a few months of moving in together. Even though they had been friends in school, Eric had always managed to hide his struggles; now he couldn't. Eric had started with the long walks at two or three in the morning two years ago, but it was only in the last semester that he was coming home bloodied, bruised and stinking of whisky. The others just let it slide; they weren’t able for the battle that came along with Eric. They were a match and Eric was a flame: if they got too close, they’d scream as they were burned. He was dangerous to them all, a burden. He was currently lying in his and Harry's bed; the Engineering student had left for a late lecture about two hours ago. Eric was pretty sure that the others were downstairs, laughing and joking, while he was up there, tears burning in his eyes because he realized how much he loved each of them. They were his rocks, but sometimes they were the rocks that were weighing him down. He stared up at the ceiling for a long time, until he drifted off to sleep.

 

His dreams were dark and twisted. That was when he could sleep – usually he couldn’t unless he drank himself stupid. This time, there was something chasing him. He couldn’t make out its face, but it was calling to him like a shroud of Darkness. It warmed his blood. It made him do things to defenceless people. Even in his dreams he was fighting: fighting himself and figments of his imagination that were real to him. Some of them got him through the day, some of them taunted him and made him scratch the pale skin in his arms and chest.

 

To get rid of the chronic empty feelings of loathing or hatred, Eric relied upon fear and pain to get him out of it. Eric remembered what it was like before he went on the medication in first year, before he went to counselling. It was knives and scissors, glass and fire. The medication hadn’t helped, but he’d stayed on it for two years and pretended that he was fine. He stopped taking it a year ago. He was in fifth year now: one more year and he’d be a doctor, if he could survive that long. When it got too much, he didn’t cut anymore – no, that would leave marks. Instead, now he bit and scratched; he wouldn’t stop until there was blood to satisfy the monster that growled beneath his skin. 

 

Eric remembered the first time he'd wandered into traffic, piss drunk and unable to walk. He remembered the feeling of the adrenaline in his veins as he wove in and out of cars. He remembered the feeling of all those lips against his, all those fingerprint bruises on his body. There had been one silver lining in all of this: No longer were the men and women substitutes for Harry; now he had Harry. He'd never forget that night.

 

It was just after the Christmas tests of second year. Eric had convinced himself that he had failed, so he drank a bottle of whisky to drown his sorrow. He was lying in the bathroom of the apartment for hours. Harry was on babysitting duty, but they all knew that Eric didn’t want to go out. It was only when they all got home and Sonny and Ben went to bed (Dele hadn’t been living with them yet) did Harry find Eric curled up on the toilet, blood and vomit trailing down his chin as he snored on the tile floor. Harry had woken him up – not nicely, a bucket of ice water to shock him awake because Harry had honestly thought he was dead; the only thing that argued that was the snores that rattled the house. Eric remembered the promise from that night; three years later, they were still going strong. But the relationship was starting to crack and crumble. He hated it.

 

Time just dripped by. He didn’t even realise that he was still crying until the door creaked open and Harry walked in, two mugs of tea in his hand.

 

“Eric, we want you to come downstairs”, Harry breathed, getting the mug down on the table.

 

“Tough luck. I’m staying here”, Eric snapped.

 

“Please, Eric, we just want to help you”, Harry sipped at his mug.

 

Eric chewed the inside of his cheek before he moved out of the bed. He was hot and sticky. He needed a shower.

 

“Can I at least get a shower before we try intervention 990?”, Eric quipped as he drank his tea.

 

Harry nodded before he walked around the side of the bed. He hugged into Eric; he held onto him for dear life. Eric shrugged out of the hug before he grabbed some clothes from the basket and walked down the hall to the shower. He was in there for twenty-three minutes; it wasn’t the first time Harry had timed his showers. Just in case, the music was always there to drown out the sound of the cries. Eric emerged from the billows of steam dressed in a hoodie and a pair of red sweatpants – that was all Harry seemed to be seeing him in lately. He headed down the stairs. Eric loitered in the door to the sitting room. Harry walked down behind him and cupped a hand on his hip.

 

“What can I do for you all?”, Eric sighed as he sat in the armchair.

 

“We want you to get help. All of us are sick of watching you killing yourself”, Dele whispered. He looked completely shattered as he spoke to his best friend.

 

“Tried that before, Del, it didn’t work”, Eric growled.

 

“Eric, have you forgotten that I’m doing psychology? There’s so many different combinations that they can try you on. Please, just one more time. Even just talking to somebody, you don’t have to do the whole drug thing. We’re just trying to help”, Ben smiled.

 

“Please, Eric, please”. Sonny was nearly crying himself. It broke Eric to not see the smile on his face.

 

“What part of me being the problem do you not understand? Drugs couldn’t fix me, I’m fucked up. I’m a burden on all of you, and if you all don’t want me here, then I’ll go”. Eric was working himself into a state. The voices in his head were right: They didn’t want him.

 

“For the last seven years I’ve kept myself awake looking at you, making sure that you were still breathing and that you hadn’t run off. I was the one that stitched up your face, that glued your lip and stopped you from choking on your own vomit. I haven’t left yet. I was there during the first round of treatment and while that drug didn’t work, another one might. Or none of them might. You have to try because I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I love you too much to watch you kill yourself, Eric, and that’s what you’re doing. You’ve fought through everything to get this far, so don’t throw it away now. Please. You have so much ahead of you, prove them wrong", Harry implored.

 

“It’s not that easy. Every day is a struggle, a heartbreak. Not one day goes by where I don’t think about trying and walking. There are days where I love all of you, then days where I hate you because you’re all that is keeping me alive. It’s not that easy. But I don’t want to throw all of this away. I’m already a failure but I won’t fail college. I’m sorry”. Eric tipped his head back to the leather chair.

 

“Here’s some numbers that one of my lecturers gave me. Give them a call. It’ll help”, Ben whispered. He had a small smile on his face. A smile of hope.

 

Eric took his phone from his pocket and placed the three numbers into his phone. He’d fight this, he’d fight it until it killed him. He wasn’t a quitter, he needed to win this battle. He had no choice. His life depended on it.


	98. Gerard Pique/Sergio Ramos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember a few months ago I wrote Geri proposing to Sergio after the Champions Leauge final? Well, you finally have the wedding. Enjoy

It was all set. They were both in their suits. Gerard’s was black, with a crisp white shirt and thick black tie. When Sergio saw him, Geri knew the thought that would go through his head. And it delighted him. He was in the large hut on the water front, Leo standing beside him.

They had rented an island in the Bahamas for the wedding; it fit all of their guests, although there really weren’t that many. It was mostly their teammates – they’d already had a ceremony with their families back in Barcelona, although Sergio had wanted it in Madrid. The chairs were set up along the white sanded beach. The colour scheme was blue and white, each settling for a bit of club colour.

“You nervous?”, Leo wondered. His grin lit up the room.

“I know I shouldn’t be”, Gerard nodded.

Leo shrugged before he hugged the much taller man. It really was a mismatch, but a mismatch they had grown accustomed to over the years. Geri let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He was shitting bricks but so excited at the same time. He walked, Leo trailing behind him, out of the hut.

The beach was set up with white chairs lined in rows with little blue ribbons tied in a bow on the back of them. Sergio and Iker, who was officiating the wedding, were both standing under the tall white arch that had been covered in fake blue and white roses. The music was playing. Geri shook his head – he would not cry, yet. All of the guests stood up. Geri took this time to finally look at Sergio, who was smiling proudly. He stood there, gleaming beautifully in his three piece navy suit. Geri stopped in front of him before he grabbed Sergio’s shaking hand.

“Thought we agreed no tears, Sese”, Geri grinned, though he was fighing back his own.

Somehow, neither of them cried until Iker asked them to read their vows. Sergio went first.

“I don’t actually know why you're marrying me, I’m an idiot – but I guess I’m your idiot now. You’ve been with me since the beginning, you’ll be with me to the end now. You’re my better half and my best friend, even though I hate you two, maybe three times a year”. That got a laugh from all of the guests. “In all seriousness, you're the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about before I sleep. I love you and I promise to be by your side through everything, always and forever”.

Geri thought he would be able to control the tears. He couldn’t. They dripped like a cascading waterfall until Sergio thumbed them away, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of his head.

“We haven’t gotten to the kissing part”, Iker scolded.

 

Geri grinned before he coughed, dislodging the ball of emotion that had formed in his throat.

“I believe in you, the person you will grow to be and the couple we will be together. With my whole heart, I take you as my husband, acknowledging and accepting your faults and strengths, as you do mine. I promise to be faithful and supportive and to always make our family's love and happiness my priority. I will be yours in plenty and in want, in sickness and in health, in failure and in triumph. I will dream with you, celebrate with you and walk beside you through whatever our lives may bring. You are my person – my love and my life, today and always and forever”. Geri swallowed. He looked down at Milan, Sasha and Shak, all of whom were crying.

 

Geri turned to Sergio, who was also crying, but they were tears of pure happiness and love, gratitude and beauty. Iker looked at the pair before he said the six words. The pair kissed softly, cradling their hands to the other’s hair.

 

“You’re beautiful”, Gerard whispered before he dropped his head to Sergio’s shoulder.

 

“If only I was half as beautiful as you”, Sergio gushed.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. Sergio Ramos and his husband, Gerard Pique. Give a round of applause for the happy couple”, Iker cheered as Ney and Leo whistled loudly.

 

They all retreated inside the large villa, where the staff had poured glasses of champagne and had plates of finger food presented beautifully on platters. Sergio and Geri made their way around to the guests, even mixing with opposing players. Right now, they were friends.

 

“Ramos”. Neymar, Dani and Leo had cornered Sergio.

“Yes?”.

“Break his heart and they will never find your body”, Neymar warned, a smile plastered on his face.

Sergio just laughed; the other three men followed. Later, just before the meal, Sergio and Gerard met up as they walked into the hall.

“Toni, Marcelo and Cris threatened me”, Geri grinned before he wrapped an arm around Sergio.

“Neymar, Dani and Leo threatened me. I should be flattered”, Sergio smirked before he pecked the other man’s cheek.

They ate the meal, all sitting around white tables with a low dim light hanging above them. Sergio and Geri looked down at their guests: They were all laughing and joking on the four tables that surrounded theirs in the middle. It was perfect. They didn’t have speeches, both Sergio and Geri had agreed on that. Instead, they had Neymar behind the speakers controlling the music – yes, even Sergio agreed to it.

The time passed by in a blur of happiness, it went by so fast. After the first dance, everything just melded together in happiness and smiles, love and adoration. The next thing Sergio knew, he was being backed into the bed, with Geri a warm weight on top of him.

“I’ve wanted to do this all fucking day”, Geri whispered as he kissed Sergio, a battle of tongue and teeth as his fingers unbuttoned the white shirt. The waistcoat and jacket had been lost somewhere at the door.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do this all day”, Sergio groaned as Gerard kissed down his golden body.

The Barcelona defender stopped and mouthed over the tent in the suit pants before he let the erection spring free of its fabric prison. Gerard took the throbbing member into his mouth and swallowed around it. Sergio swore under his breath as he grabbed on to some loose strands of Geri’s dark hair. Gerard pulled back a bit and jerked Sergio’s cock a few times, his tongue just running over the tip and the fluttering vein. Gerard went back to reading little whimpers out of Sergio before he pulled away from the hardened cock, its head an angry red colour.

“Whyd you stop?”, Sergio whined before he kissed Geri, tasting some of his own precome on the other defender’s mouth.

 

“Because I’m going to make love you like I have never before”, Geri promised as he stripped himself, the suit falling off his lanky body.

He got back on top of Sergio, boxing him back into the bed. Geri reached into the nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube; Sergio couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his lips when he head the cap pop. Any sound that could have escaped his mouth turned into a whimper as Geri spread the cool gel around his hole, occasionally dipping in his ring finger just to tease. Soon, the muscle had relaxed enough to allow the full digit into its tight tunnel. Sergio was babbling incoherent words into his wrist as two fingers streched inside of him, moving and touching everything they had to offer.

Sergio was a babbling mess by the time Gerard had three fingers inside of him, each one directly stimulating his prostate. Geri was kissing at his neck, sucking deep red marks into the golden skin.

“Please”, Sergio panted. His voice was breathy and caught in his throat.

“Just because I love you”, Geri whispered before he caught his lips in a searing kiss, pulling out his fingers in the process.

Geri took enough time to spread liberal amounts of lube on his own cock and around Sergio’s fluttering entrance. Slowly, Geri lined himself up with the opening before he moved in, inch by inch until he was fully sheathed in Sergio. It was like heaven the way he gripped and pulled Geri, as though he was trying to get his cock to go in further. He moved slowly at first, until Sergio laced their fingers together; then Gerard sped up, matching his thrusts with his kisses. Sergio was a withering mess, crying out each time the thick head of Gerard’s cock slammed into his prostate. Sergio’s free hand was shredding through Gerard’s back, leaving angry red marks. His nails dug into the tanned skin, leaving crescent moon indentations that stung as he came between their stomachs.

Geri continually fucked into him, knowing that both of them moving was driving Sergio over the edge of overstimulation – just enough to make it fun. Never painful. Gerard came inside of the condom and collapsed on top of Sergio, both of them breathing heavily. They stayed like that for a while, both of them completely fucked out of it.

“I fucking love you”. Sergio was still trying to catch his breath.

“I love fucking you”, Geri quipped.

For now, the pair would bask in the afterglow of sex before they cleaned up. Then, then, they would spend the rest of their lives together, as one. Always and forever.


	99. Ben Davies/ Kieran Trippier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anybody has an answer as to how spurs lost to West Ham, please do tell me because I'm still scratching my head.

None of them could believe it. What the fuck had happened? Kieran was scowling in the corner, he was already dressed after the quick shower he took. He just wanted to go home. But he had to wait for Ben. The same Ben who didn’t seem too angry, annoyed, or sad at their loss to West fucking Ham of all teams.

“Stop scowling, it’s not good for your pretty face”, Ben muttered, pulling Kieran up, their fingers were laced together before Kieran yanked his away.

The pair was silent, they were making their way to Ben's car, but Kieran was still refusing to get within an inch of him. Once they were in the car, the deathly silence fell over them for the length of time it took to get to Ben's.

“What the fuck is your problem?”, Ben snapped, he was agitated and slammed the door closed behind him.

“My problem? I don’t have a problem”, Kieran muttered, he was staring up at Ben, he needed to get rid of some of his pent up anger.

“Yes, your fucking problem”.

“Sorry that I'm a bit despondent because we fucking lost to West motherfucking Ham. You seem completely fine with it though”, Kieran answered, his voice was sharp, the anger in it cut through Ben's body.

“Of course I’m not fine with it. I don’t know what happened out there, none of us do. But you can't get all shitty with me just because we lost”, Ben growled.

“Where the fuck was Hugo? Where? This is our fault, we're the defenders, we’re meant to defend”, Kieran shouted.

“At home, wondering why the fuck he weren’t in goal. It’s not out fault”, Ben sighed, he tried to move closer to Kieran, but the older man just yanked away from him.

“Don't”.

“I actually can’t believe that you’re blaming us for this, us?. There were nine other people on that pitch, and you’re blaming the two of us. Typical", Ben muttered.

“I’m blaming all of us because we had a fucking two nil lead and we blew it. I’m blaming us because we should have done better. It’s like you don’t even care anymore”, Kieran snarled. Was he still talking about the match? Probably not.

“Are you actually calling my fucking feelings into question right fucking now? That’s bloody low you prick. Have the last two and a half years of our life not meant anything to you? Because it’s meant everything to me”, Ben cried out, he'd always been the more emotional of the pair.

“Well if you’d stop letting your emotion get the better of you every

 

five minutes, if you could stop being such a dq for fuck’s sake”. 

Kieran froze, why did he do that? What fucking possessed him to do that?

“Ben, babe. I…”, Kieran tried to finish the sentence but Ben cut him off.

“Just stop. Fuck you. Get the fuck out if my house, now”, Ben screamed.

Kieran knew he couldn’t win this fight at the minute. So he walked. He walked out the door and Ben thought he’d never be held by him again. He'd have to see him again, the cons of playing on the same team.

 

It lasted two days, by then, their teammates had figured it out and they were determined to get them talking again. The whole place was just awkward. That was until Ben was sent home earlier from training. No matter how much he fought it, he knew it was the right thing. 

“You’ve went to the toilet ten times in the last hour, each time you come back you’re eyes are red and your face is puffy. Go home”, Poch ordered, a kind smile on his face.

Ben sighed, he didn’t fight it. His stomach had been tearing itself apart inside his body ever since he tried reheat his dinner last night. 24 years old and he still can’t reheat food. Talent. He just went home. 

It was later on during the day and Kieran was tired. But, he plucked up the courage to drive to Ben's house. He let himself in with the spare key that Ben had given him for Christmas last year. Kieran readied himself for the angry outburst that would probably erupt from Ben when he saw the older man. Kieran sighed as he closed the door behind him, Ben was nowhere to be seen in the sitting room. After he turned off the telly, Kieran moved up the stairs and opened the bedroom door.

“Ben? You okay?”, Kieran wondered, once he found the burrito filled with a Welshman. 

“I knew I should have took your key”, Ben muttered as he curled closer to the pillows.

“Then I wouldn’t be able to come here and give you a hug", Kieran pointed out, as he moved to lie on the bed.

“You're not going to blame me?”, Ben retorted, his head was just peeking above the duvet.

“I’m sorry. I was just angry, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have. I love you and I’m sorry”, Kieran frowned, moving closer to the younger man.

“Just because you say I love you, that doesn’t automatically make things better. I know you love me, I love you. But, it still fuckin’ hurt Kier”, Ben mumbled, unfolding the duvet so he could slide into the older man’s arms.

“I was a dick. I’m sorry. What’s wrong with you anyway?”, Kieran wondered, nosing at Ben’s cheek.

“I failed to properly reheat my chicken. As payment for this emotional mistress, you have to cook me dinner every night for two weeks”, Ben mumbled.

Kieran couldn’t contain the laugh that fell from his lips. He only stopped when Ben shot him a look.

“Sorry. Want to go to sleep?”, Kieran questioned.

Ben nodded before he turned and slotted his head over the older man’s head. The pair of them stayed like that ‘till both of them had fallen into a heavy slumber.


	100. Kyle Walker/Eric Dier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy 100 people. It's been a long journey, I hope you enjoy this one too. There will be a part two eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No hate to John Stones(kinda)

Manchester City were hosting Spurs in the Ethihad. Tensions were running high from both teams in the crucial clash. There were so many yellow cards on both sides, but nobody was ready for what was going to happen.

 

It was the 79th minute. John Stones’ header managed to sail past Hugo's outreached fingertips. The Citizen ran to celebrate as Eric picked himself up off the ground. The whistle went. The goal was disallowed, but Eric still had to see John celebrate with somebody who never should have left. But he did, he left them, he left Eric. The scoreboard went back to 0-0. Later, Eric had the ball at his feet, he felt studs run down the back of his shin, he turned and saw John. Of fucking course it was him. The whistle blew. The ref spoke to John while Eric pulled up his socks. When he looked up there was an outstretched hand waiting for him. He ignored it.

 

“Eric...”.

 

“Don’t even try, go back to John”, Eric spat, before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

 

He turned and stared at Stones, who had a menacing look on his face. The other was just standing there, staring at the both of them.

 

“Dive again, Dier, and I will make sure you get fucked”.

 

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Well fuck you”, Eric smirked.

 

John began to square up to him, their foreheads butted as Kyle and Dele got in the middle of them, Dele pulled Eric one way.

 

“Not worth it mate, not worth it. You’re on a yellow".

 

“I’m going to break his fucking face if he doesn’t shut up".

 

“All mouth and no bite? What else would I expect from you?”, John laughed before he sauntered off.

 

“Eric, don't”, Jan whispered as he moved to chaperone the younger man back to his position.

 

“No, fuck you”, Eric snarled before he went back and they squared up again, they pushed and shoved against one another.

 

The ref showed the red card to Eric, John walked away with a yellow. Eric walked, he didn’t talk, he didn’t look at any of them, he knew he fucked up. He walked by Poch, his manager dragged him in for a hug.

 

“Cool down, we'll talk later", Mauricio whispered before Eric nodded.

 

The tears were burning in his eyes, tears of shame and disappointment. If they lost because of him, he’d never get over himself. He stripped off his kit and stood under the spray of lukewarm water, his nailed scratched through his scalp as his tears fell. The water made them indistinguishable. Eric yelled out when he punched the tiled wall, fucking John Stones and his bastarding smug face. And Kyle, Kyle just stood by and watched, his eyes were transfixed on John. Not on Eric. That hurt the most.

 

That’s when Eric heard the cheer from above, Harry had just saved their asses. But Eric still felt numb. He was sitting back on the bench, nursing a hand and a broken heart. The others walked in, in drops and droves.

 

“A word, Eric?”, Mauricio requested.

 

Eric stood up, his hand was bleed as he followed his manager into the hallway.

 

“I’m sorry, Poch. I messed up. It won’t happen again”, Eric sighed. He’d stopped crying a few minutes before the others came back.

 

“It’s alright. He must have said some things to get you that angry. But why were you staring at Kyle? He didn’t do anything”, Poch wondered, his arms were folded over his chest.

 

“He left... Is it alright if I just go sit on the bus while you guys get ready?”, Eric wondered.

 

“Go ahead”.

 

Eric went and got his bag, he gave Harry a hug and congratulated him before he made his way to the bus.

 

“Eric, stop”, Kyle called as he jogged behind the younger man.

 

“Fuck off", Eric muttered.

 

“Eric, please. You haven’t spoken to me since the summer. Not even on international. Please. I miss you”, Kyle swallowed as he grabbed the blonde.

 

“And that’s your fault. You left us, so do me a favour and go back to John because he’s going to need protection if he wants to keep that face of his”, Eric threatened, he yanked away from the older man.

 

“’Ric”.

 

“No, don’t you dare, you lost that right when you left me, when you left me for something bigger and better. That's your fault”, Eric seethed, no matter how angry he was, the crying renewed.

 

“I’m sorry. Eric, I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt anybody, especially you", Kyle whispered as he hugged Eric close to him.

 

Eric couldn’t speak, he missed this, when he was wrapped in Kyle's arms he felt like nothing could hurt him. He felt safe. Kyle pulled back to stare at Eric, one hand was splayed on his hip and the other one was dragging over Eric’s cheeks. All Kyle could see was something he’d pent up inside of him for far too long, he gently brushed their lips together, not like they had done that one time last year. No, this was different, it was soft and tender and loving.

 

“Can you come back to my place? I want to explain some stuff to you", Kyle muttered in the younger man’s ear.

 

“I don’t trust myself to be around you, Ky, I can’t do it to myself again", Eric whispered as he slid a hand down the older man’s tattooed arms.

 

“That’s okay. Just please, talk to me. I care about you too much to lose you over some thing as stupid as this”, Kyle smiled before he dragged a thumb over Eric's pouting lips.

 

“I’m sorry. I want to talk but I can’t. It hurts. You left me and now you’re with him, he has hated me for so long”.

 

“I’m not with him, Eric, he’s a friend. You mean more to me than you know. International break, we’ll fix this”.

 

Eric felt his heart racing before he hugged Kyle, he breathed in deeply. It was still the same comforting zesty scent. Eric didn’t realise he could miss a smell that much. But as painful as it was, he broke away, and with one final kiss he walked away. It tore him open. But it was for the best. For now anyway.


	101. Luke Shaw/Harry Kane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a fluffy peice that is ABO but only mildly. Hope you enjoy.

“What're you doing?”, Luke whined, rolling over to lie on top of Harry.

 

“Getting up, you need to eat”, Harry sighed. He was carding his fingers through the younger man’s soft hair.

 

“I’m not hungry. You’re not going anywhere”. Luke snuggled closer, one arm wriggling plunder Harry’s back.

 

The older man shifted them so he was lying on his side. Luke was curled around him, much more like a cat than he cared to admit.

 

“I need to make you something to eat, you haven’t eaten all day”, Harry pointed out.

 

The early effects of heat were starting to set in. There was more black in Luke's eyes, his skin was tinged pink and his temperature was rising; soon it would be an all-consuming fire that would burn through him for days.

 

“Please, Luke?”, Harry sighed. Trying to get Luke to do anything other than cuddle like this was almost impossible.

 

“No”.

 

Harry rolled his eyes before he kissed the top of the younger man’s forehead. Even now, he could feel the heat that coursed through his lover's body. Still, Luke yawned cutely before he started mouthing at Harry’s throat. Harry rolled his eyes before he hissed when Luke bit into soft flesh. He cast Harry a sheepish glance.

 

“I love you”, Harry said after a while, only to realize that Luke had fallen asleep beside him.

 

Harry shifted around him for a few moments before he turned the TV back on and went back to watching the documentary he had taped. Once Harry decided that Luke was out for the count, he gently manoeuvred out of his grip and left the bedroom, intent on cleaning up the mess they had made.

 

It took him about half an hour. He opened the windows and washed the dishes, put on a wash and felt a sort of domesticated feeling as he did it. He realized that he could spend a lot more time doing this, just being at home with Luke…and maybe a few little ones running around the place. Just maybe. It was times like this that he afforded himself the luxury of thinking about a family. He'd never really brought it up with Luke, just because he didn’t want to pressure the younger man into something. Harry had made a promise a long time ago that Luke’s happiness would always come before his own. For the last three years, he'd stuck to his promise.

 

He’d just finished cleaning up the sitting room when he heard movement. Harry went back to the kitchen and rooted out one of the bars of salted caramel chocolate, quite possibly the only thing he could get Luke to eat. Even then it was at a stretch. However, Harry felt something growl in his gut. Something wasn’t right. When he reached the room, he saw what the problem was. Luke was curled in a ball, hands fisting the red duvet as tears glittered on his cheek. Harry instantly knew what was wrong.

 

“You okay, kitten?”, Harry whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

 

“It hurts, and you weren’t here when I woke up”.

 

“Sorry, I had to clean up. I’m here now”. Harry placed a hand on Luke's exposed stomach. He could almost feel how tense it was; he could feel the heat. The pain.

 

Luke didn’t say anything; he just scooted close to Harry. He rested his head on the older man's thigh and rubbed his face into the soft fabric of his sweats. Harry was gently playing with the silky strands that draped over his fingers. For a while, he was almost certain that Luke had fallen sleep again, until the younger man whined in pain.

 

“It’s okay. I’m here”, Harry soothed, craning his neck downwards to pepper kisses into the back of Luke’s neck.

Luke turned and made a dart to the bathroom, Harry following him. Luke had his head in the toilet bowl, gagging and puking what little sustenance he had in his body. Harry sidestepped him and started running the hot water into the rather large bath that they had acquired. Perfect for times like this. Luke immediately went to the sink and brushed his teeth, trying so desperately to remove that sour bile taste from his mouth. He then moved to Harry and leaned into him, his chin resting on the older man’s shoulder as Harry snuck a hand around his waist.

 

“I love you, Lukey”, Harry whispered as he kissed his forehead.

 

The pair worked in silence as the bath water steamed in the bathroom. They cautiously stripped each other of their minimal clothing. Harry got in first; Luke then slid gently into his arms, sighing happily when the hot water washed over his buring stomach. Harry laced their fingers together ad kissed the side of Luke’s head again.

 

“You can't fall asleep, Lukey”, Harry whispered.

 

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something”. Luke's voice was barely above a whisper. That was how Harry knew full heat hadn’t set in – he still had pockets of clarity.

 

“What’s up?”. Harry was beginning to become concerned.

 

“How do you feel about kids?”, Luke swallowed.

 

“I love them, I want to have some?”, Harry wasn’t entirely sure where this was going.

 

“With me?”.

 

“Of course with you. You’re my pretty little thing”. Harry kissed the mating mark on Luke’s throat.

 

“Because I might say some things, and, I, I don’t want to frighten you off”, Luke sighed, turning his head slightly.

 

“Luke, we’ve been together for long enough”, Harry pointed out.

 

“I know, I just. I feel lonely here when you’re gone to work”.

 

“Are you saying that you want to try?”, Harry wondered. His arms tightened subconsciously.

 

“Yeah, I wanna try and have a kid with you. A piece of me and of you. I love you”, Luke smiled.

 

Harry didn’t answer. Instead, he just nipped and sucked the mate mark – that was his yes. Luke sank back into his arms, a gleeful and hopeful feeling in his stomach. He looked forward to the future.


	102. Bernd Leno/Marc-Andrè ter Stegen

The two of them were fighting again. Everybody on the team, players, coaches, everyone knew it wasn’t good for the environment. Jogi knew it wasn't.

 

“You two, come here”, he all but shouted at them, watching as the two goalkeepers broke apart, balls in their hands.

 

“Yes, Sir?”, Marc smiled sweetly. Bernd threw the ball at his head.

 

“Leno, cut it out right fucking now. The rest of you, go, go back to your rooms”, Jogi smiled to the rest of them, but his face contorted. “You two better start explaining, or I’ll separate the both of you, indefinitely”.

 

“Nothing is happening, honestly”, Marc shrugged, while Bernd glared daggers into the back of his head.

 

“Ter Stegen, don’t lie to me. Leno, stop glaring and trying to melt him”.

 

“Sorry, Jogi, but when he’s being this big of a dickhead, he can melt”, Bernd growled in the other keeper’s direction.

 

“Honestly, what the fuck did I do?”, Marc snapped.

 

“You know damn fucking well what you fucking did, you fucking twat”, Bernd snarled. Jogi took a step back and blinked – he didn’t realise that Bernd could be that animalistic.

 

“Are you serious? I don’t know, Bernd, you're just too princess-like, not everybody knows what goes on in your head. One minute it’s a field, the next it’s a battleground. But you can fuck right off in trying to blame me”. Marc’s voice was low and threatening as the pair stared at each other.

 

“One of you even think to throw a punch and I'll make sure only Kevin plays the last game. Do you understand me?”, Jogi pushed then apart.

 

“I’m done, send me back to Leverkusen or wherever the fuck I have to go to get away from him”. Bernd was holding his temper; he turned and began to walk away.

 

“Yeah, run away from your problems like you always do, blame me like you always do”, Marc shouted before he pelted the ball into the back of the net.

 

Jogi shrugged before he sighed. He’d have to fix this – it would eat and dissolve his team, clawing them from the inside out.

 

“Rack that brain of yours: Have you said or done anything in the last twenty hours? He was fine yesterday after dinner, this morning he was angry as be fucked”, Jogi pointed out.

 

“Oh, fuck”, Marc breathed.

 

“What did you do?”.

 

“I may have jokingly said that he’d never be starting keeper. I swear it was in good faith, Jogi, don’t give me that look”, Marc whined.

 

“Well, he was right to call you a dick, and to throw balls at your head and to want to get as far away from you as possible because, Marc- André ter Stegen, you need to fix this. Preferably before dinner”, Jogi muttered.

 

“How do I do that?”, Marc asked, his face melting into a frown.

 

“I’m not a marriage counsellor, nor do I get paid enough to deal with all of you squabbling like children. Now go, I have things to do and so do you”, Jogi shrugged.

 

Marc sighed drastically before he headed up to their room. The window was open and the other bed in the room was crumpled and there was the sound of water running in the bath.

 

“Bernd, you in there, babe?”, Marc called as he opened the door.

 

“No, I’m in fucking Narnia”, Bernd retorted, turning off the tap.

 

“You spent long enough in the closet”, Marc hummed as he sat down beside the bath.

 

“So did you”.

 

There was a thick silence between the two of them. Marc stood up before he kissed the top of Bernd's steam-dampened hair.

 

“I love you, I’m sorry”, Marc whispered before he left the bathroom.

 

Later on, Bernd emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of thick heavy steam, a pair of grey sweats hanging low on his hips. He slid in beside Marc.

 

“I didn't mean it”, Marc whispered as he turned.

 

“Still hurt, though”, Bernd sighed.

 

“I was a dick. Words just fall out, it was a joke. I’m sorry”, Marc nosed through his hair.

 

“Not a very funny joke, Marc. I love you”, Bernd grinned before he kissed Marc.

 

“You know, when you were moping in the bath I saw something online and realised something: You really do look like me and Manu had a kid. Kind of unsettling, but you definitely got my good looks”, Marc laughed.

 

“See, that’s a funny joke, because Manu is just as good-looking as you”.

 

“Don’t let Thomas hear you say that”.

 

“Meh. I’ve got my own goalkeeper”, Bernd shrugged as he cuddled in closer.

 

“I have my own, too: a beautiful, brilliant, talented Bernd", Marc breathed, his fingers dancing on Bernd's exposed shoulder.

 

The two of them settled close to each other. They both drifted off to sleep, hoping that when they woke up their path would be just a little less cloudy.


	103. Harry Kane/Hugo Lloris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was requested by Bonzi, I hope you enjoy it, sorry that it's short.

“What’s wrong?”, Harry wondered, as he slid into the seat beside Hugo.

“Reflecting", Hugo shrugged, his lips were pursed and his hands are clasped.

“Do tell”, Harry nuzzled close to him, nipping at the coarse hair that shrouded his cheekbone.

“How are we seventh in the league, out of the Carabao, yet we managed to beat Madrid? I just don’t understand it”.

“It's luck, one day were capable of beating anyone, or anything, the next we could lose to a fucking non league team. It is confusing but it’s not your fault”.

“But it is, I am meant to stop the balls from going in, I let them in. I’m not getting younger Harry, what about the world cup? It’s probably my last chance if I’m being honest”.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry about it, just focus on finding the back of the net”, Harry frowned when he saw the goalkeeper wince.

He narrowed his eyes at Hugo before he poked his shoulder.

“You did something to your shoulder in training, didn’t you?”, Harry narrowed his eyes.

“It's just a knot”.

“I’ll give you a massage if you like? I’m sure I can find the oil".

“How about in the bath? I could use a nice fucking soak, you have no clue how tense I am", Hugo muttered.

Harry raised an eyebrow before he moved, he wrapped his legs behind Hugo’s back, his bare heels dug into the black tee-shirt. Hugo smiled before he kissed up and down the side of Harry's neck.

“J'adore tu”, Hugo whispered.

“I love you, too”, Harry felt his stomach tighten as he kissed Hugo quickly.

No matter how long they’d been together for, no matter how long they would be together for, Harry would never get tired of hearing Hugo speak French, he sounded so angelic. Harry moved from the older man’s lap, as his back straightened he offered Hugo a hand, the Frenchman laced their fingers together as they walked to the bathroom.

“Have I mentioned how much I love your bath?”, Harry questioned as be turned on the hot water, it came to life by spitting out of the jets.

“On several occasions, I remember one time, it was all you could say if, I remember correctly".

“You remember everything, don’t you? Where’d you leave the tea tree oil the last time?”, Harry wondered, looking for the rose hip oil was pointless.

“Top of the press”, Hugo moaned as he sank into the hot water, he could feel the heat of water spurt into his back.

“You have to make some room for me", Harry whined.

Hugo scooted forward a little bit, then, Harry sat in behind him, a small vial in his hand.

“Now, don’t do what you did the last time and try to punch it out”.

“I’ll be gentle”.

Harry pressed on the top of the bottle to open it, he poured some of the cool liquid into his hand, he speeded it along his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. Hugo winced as Harry started to work his thumbs over the thick mass, working at it from edge to centre.

“A bit lower”, Hugo moaned, as he shrugged carefully, he could still feel it. 

The Frenchman's moan punctuated the silence in the room, Harry had found the spot, his thumbs had moved in a clockwise direction to work out the tense ball. Hugo fell back against Harry, the younger man moved the pads of his fingers down Hugo's chest in an affectionate act.

“I love you”, Harry punctuated each word with a nip on Hugo's neck.

“J'adore tu, mon petit roi", Hugo had a grin on his face as he spoke.


	104. Kevin de Bruyne/Eden Hazard

“Eden? Eden?”, Kevin called as he walked into the hotel room.

 

They were on international duty and Eden had taken a slight knock in training thanks to Jan’s mistimed tackle because he was staring at Dries, who was running circles around Thorgan and Michy.

 

“In the bath. Have I mentioned how much I love being in fancy hotels? This bath has jets, we need to put jets in the bath at home”, Eden was grinning when Kevin walked into the dark-tiled bathroom.

 

Kevin dropped to his knees beside the bath and moved to swirl his hand through the hot, bubble-filled water. His hand found Eden’s thigh, his hand rubbed over the soft flesh. Eden bit his lip as his eyes slid shut.

 

“You know, the guys are coming over here soon. How soon though, I don’t know”.

 

“Getting caught is half of the fun of the chase”, Eden smirked as he placed his hand over Kevin’s hand.

 

Eden moved the hand up to where his stiffening cock was filling with blood as he ground into Kevin’s hand. The redhead leaned over and slid his lips over Eden’s filthily. They kissed each other in a flurry of tongues pushing against one another; their teeth nipped and ripped at the fragile, sensitive skin of their lips. Kevin groaned as Eden fisted his training jacket and pulled Kevin close, it splashed water everywhere.

 

“You might as well just get in with me, it’s big enough for the two of us”, Eden whispered as he bit Kevin’s bright pink lips.

 

“I like that idea, move over”, Kevin pulled away as began to strip, he flung his clothes somewhere behind the sink. He’d get them later.

 

“Shouldn’t I be on top? Injury and all”, Eden muttered before he kissed Kevin’s milk bottle chest.

 

Kevin whimpered as Eden latched onto one of his blush pink nipples. He fell backward, and water splashed everywhere, but Eden was on top of him now, his own dick pressed against Eden’s.

 

“I’d love to be all lovey-dovey, but I don’t need Thibaut to knock on the door and interrupt us like he did last time”, Eden smiled before he kissed Kevin again.

 

They kissed dirtily as Kevin’s fingers rubbed along Eden’s hole, which was still somewhat open from their morning tryst. Eden moaned as Kevin slipped a wet finger between his cheeks. Kevin smirked as he sat up, one hand pressed into Eden’s hip. It didn’t take long to get Eden loose enough to get three fingers into his pulsing entrance. Eden was moaning and cursing in French as he fisted his own cock, not enough to make him come, but just enough to tease himself. Soon, he was a whimpering mess as Kevin pressed his tip to his fluttering entrance.

 

“Come on, fuck me”, Eden growled.

 

“Does somebody want me to fuck them? Does he want to feel my cock catch on his rim and fill you until you scream with ecstasy as you come from my cock alone? So, take your hand off your cock, now”. Eden let out a high-pitched whine at the dominance dripping from Kevin’s voice.

 

Eden’s hand fell away from his throbbing cock as Kevin sheathed himself inside of the shorter man’s body. Eden was reduced to a withering, moaning mess as Kevin fucked into him, running by his prostate at every chance the younger man got. Kevin was whispering lewd things in Eden’s ear and the shorter man had to stop himself from coming because of the things he was saying.

 

“Come on, baby, come for me. Feel the weight of my cock deep inside you, feel it pushing on all the right places. Can you feel me here, pressing into you and making you feel so full. You could stay like this forever, full and gasping for your release. That’s it, I can feel you tightening, you’re nearly there, come on. Come for me”, Kevin whispered as he rubbed his hand over Eden’s stomach.

 

That did it. Eden groaned as thick white ropes of come coated their stomachs. Kevin continued to fuck inside of Eden before he erupted inside of him, hot seed filled the older of the two as they slumped against one another, heavy breaths and pants as they came down from their high.

 

Kevin was the first to move. He pulled the plug and stepped out of the bath, then headed over to the shower and started to run the water; it rained from the ceiling as steam poured through the room.

 

“Come on, baby, let’s get you cleaned up. Go stand in the shower, I’ll get our clothes”, Kevin kissed the top of Eden’s head.

 

He watched Eden walk on shaky legs to the shower, once he was inside he sat on the built-in shelf that doubled as a seat for small people like him. Kevin went and gathered some clothes for the pair of them. When he returned to the bathroom, he placed the clothes on the bench beside the sink. Eden was still sitting in the shower; his short hair was sticking to his head.

 

“Did I fuck that much after you?”, Kevin teased as he walked into the shower and took Eden in his arms.

 

“We need to watch that tongue on you, it’s so fucking good”, Eden whispered as he kissed Kevin’s neck.

 

“Just relax, watch that ankle, I’ll clean you up”, Kevin mumbled as he took the shampoo into his hand.

 

Both were silent as Kevin scraped his fingers against Eden’s scalp. Kevin rubbed the mint-scented body wash; he paid special attention to Eden’s muscles. The silence between them was nice, it gave then time to just be together. They got dressed together and went to lie on the bed together, a few minutes later there was a knock at the door. Eden hobbled to open it.

 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to”, Jan apologised as he picked up Eden.

 

“It’s fine, you didn’t do any damage, just try to not drool over this little guy”, Eden patronisingly patted Dries’ head.

 

“Try to not drool over the milk bottle. Now, let us in, I wanna watch the film”, Thorgan pushed past his older brother and settled on the bed.

 

“Thor, you said I get the bed this time”, Thibaut called.

 

They all snuggled close on the two double beds in the room. Thibaut, Thorgan, Michy and Toby were on one bed; Jan, Dries, Kevin and Eden were on the other. They all cuddled close to each other as they watched the film. They were a cute little family.


	105. Robert Lewandowski/ Wojciech Szczęsny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Mariothellama, I know you like this paring so think of it as an early Christmas present. Merry Christmas and a happy New year to you all.

Robert loved the Winter break. It was nice to just sit down in front of a crackling fire, enjoying a nice mug of either tea, coffee or hot chocolate. It was nice. But what was better was the annoying little( okay he wasn’t little but still) goalkeeper that was literally tying him to the sofa. 

“Can you move?”, Robert rolled his eyes before he sipped on the hot chocolate.

Woj peered up at him, steely grey pools that had a mischievous glint to them. 

He had a smirk on his face as he moved up Robert's body to rest his head on Robert's chest.

“That’s not what I meant", Robert sighed.

“You asked me to move, I did. It’s not my fault that you never told me where to move to", Woj smirked before he went back to angrily swiping at his beloved candy crush. 

“You have an addiction to that stupid game", Robert laughed.

“I have to keep my brain sharp, you make me age".

“That’s just rude. I just want to enjoy my hot chocolate and watch my films”.

“You're the one that invited me here", Woj pointed out.

“Yes, I did. I’m starting to regret it now”, Robert spluttered as he placed the mug back on the table.

“Don’t die, I have a feeling that either Łukasz or Kuba would blame me at your funeral”.

“You're actually going to be the death of me", Robert laughed as he carded his fingers through the mop of thick, dark hair.

“I’m pretty sure you said that last night, what was it you said?”, Woj teased.

“That your velveteen mouth was better that anything in the world. But I seem to remember you begging me last night. The all powerful, Wojciech Tomasz Szczęsny, on his knees begging. I wish I had of taken a picture", Robert smirked.

“You're a minx, Lewandowski. I remember when you were the quiet little striker, now look at you”, Wojciech laughed before he kissed the striker.

Like the majority of their kisses, it ended with them both panting and longing for more. It left them with cherry red lips and indentations of sharp teeth on the pouting skin. It left them needy and wonton. It left them locked in a cycle of needing to dominate the other. But Lewy always won. Woj tired, bless him he tried, but he was too sweet. 

From their first night that they had spent together, it woke something in Lewy, it light the fire that would burn through him until it consumed him. But Woj, Woj was softer; gentle touches and forehead kisses, but a part of him burned too. And when it sparked together, god help anybody who was in their way. That fire, that passion, that utter sarcasm, was what usually led to the majority of their heated arguments, which then lead to intense and dangerous times, because when they truly gave themselves to each other, it was dangerous. 

“What can I say, you changed me. Or did I change you? Remember when you were the all cocky and powerful Woj? Now you're a little kitten, constantly looking for your owners affections”.

“You own me?”, Woj crackled.

“In every sense of the word".

Woj fell silent, he didn’t have a come back. It was true, Lewy owned him, at every tournament, match and meeting, Robert was there, standing beside him, sleeping beside him, sitting beside him. You would never see Woj without Robert, or Robert with Woj. 

“Shit”, The goalkeeper cried as he came to the realisation” Oh for fuck's sake, I’m your bitch?”. 

Robert chucked to himself before he kissed the top of Woj's head. 

“You’ve always been one for the dramatics. I’d say your more like my, my other half. We complete each other”.

“I know it’s Christmas but shit boy, you’re getting soppy in your old age".

Lewy gasped audibly.

“Fuck you, I am not old”.

“Older than me”.

“And?”.

“I’m just saying. Now shush, I want to play candy crush”.

Robert sighed as he finished of his now tepid hot chocolate. He watched Woj for a while, the way his tongue peaked out from his lips when he got frustrated. Lewy grinned at the way the keeper’s forehead wrinkled as he pouted.

“Sometimes I think you love that game more than me", Robert laughed.

“Impossible, I love nothing as much as I love you", Woj promised before he kissed the striker on the cheek. 

“I suppose I love you too", Robert teased.

“After what I did last night, you better".


	106. Vincent Janssen/Eric Dier

Eric sighed as he unlocked the door to his house. It was cold, he must have left a window open and since he was in his own, there was nobody to have a warm fire lighting in the hearth, there was nobody to talk to about trivial things. Not since Vincent left. He missed having the younger man curled around him like a cat, his head usually rested on Eric's chest as the blonde dragged his nails against Vincent’s head. But now Vincent was in Turkey, enjoying warm weather. And Eric was alone, but so was Vincent. Eric still hadn’t gotten over the whole thing, but he'd have to eventually. Eric sighed.

He turned up the heating and walked down to the bathroom. He spent an age under the spray of boiling water as he scraped off the layers of dirt and grime that had accumulated on his skin after a hard day of training. Christmas was always the worst, Poch broke them down and put them back together, but the entire season was going to shit. His life was going to shit if he was being frank. He felt like a part of him had been ripped away, even in that year, Vincent had meant so much to him, too much to him.

When Eric turned off he water, he took the navy towel from the rack and knotted it at his waist. As he walked out of the room, he glanced at the clock in the hall, he'd been in there for nearly an hour, scrubbing and thinking. He was not expecting what he saw on his bed. No he wasn’t.

“Vince? No fucking way”, Eric literally pounced on him, his arms wrapped around his neck.

“I’m here, I’m here", Vincent grinned into the older man’s neck as he sat up.

They stayed silent for a while, they just held each other. Vincent settled down into the cushions as he watched Eric pulled on the warmest clothes he had before Eric slid into Vincent's embrace.

“I missed you so fucking much", Eric whispered before he kissed Vincent quickly.

They curled back around each other and got reacquainted. By the time both of them were finished talking, it was dark outside and Eric was nearly asleep, Vincent's soft voice and his feather light touch was pulling him to sleep.

“I love you", Vincent mumbled as he kissed the side of Eric’s head.

“I love you too, do you want something to eat?”.

“Can we just sleep for a little bit? I just want to hold you”.

Eric nodded before he reached down and pulled the thick comforter over the two of them. The were like fire and smoke, they fit together perfectly. With a warm, comforting weight against him, Eric fell into a soft slumber. Vincent just spent the next hour and a half, caressing and kissing Eric's soft skin as he nosed through the older man’s hair. 

Later, Eric groaned against him before his eyes fell open, Vincent grinned at the magnificent colour. Eric surged forward and kissed Vincent with every ounce of strength in his body. Vincent fell back, his back was flat against the duvet as Eric clambered on top of him, he was kissing every inch of Vincent's body that was available.

“I’ve missed you so much”, Eric punctuated each word with a nip on Vincent’s skin as his fingers gripped the zip on the jacket.

“I know, love, I know", Vincent's hands brought Eric's head back up to his own face where he melded their lips together.

The kiss was as hot as the deepest pits of hell, and just as sinful. Hands wandered and made quick work of any clothes as Vincent used some of his strength to turn them around, Eric moaned in his mouth as he landed on his back. They only broke apart to remove their tee-shirts and to quell the burn in their lungs.

“Slow down, I’m not going anywhere, not for a week", Vincent sighed.

Eric dropped his head as he tugged Vincent back to him. The striker fell down beside him, their noses centimetres apart. 

“A week? When will I see you again?”, Eric’s voice cracked as he finished his sentence.

“When I’m back, I don’t know what’s going to happen. Can we just not talk about this?”, Vincent complained.

Eric turned away from him, he twisted his entire body so that his back was in Vincent’s face. Vincent shook his head before he pulled, more like yanked, the older man back to him.

“Don't be mad. We'll be fine".

“Just, just be quiet”.

“No”, Vincent sounded so childish before he kissed the edge of Eric’s ear.

Eric cursed in Portuguese as he flipped around again, he manoeuvred himself so that his head was under Vincent's chin.

“I love you”, Vincent kissed the top of the blonde's head.

Eric felt his heart speed up, he snuggled closer and took a deep breath of the strikers scent- pepper and wood. It comforted him, it made him feel safe and warm.

“I love you too".


	107. Marcus Rashford/Jesse Lingard

“Jesse, love, where the fuck are you hiding?”, Marcus called.

 

He’d been looking for the older man for the last hour and a half at this stage, and the last place he decided to look was probably the first place he should have looked: the swimming pool. Of course, Jesse was lounging on the steps, just feeling the warm water roll over his skin. Jose had worked them all so hard today, Jesse just wanted to relax.

 

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you for over an hour", Marcus laughed as he sat behind Jesse on the side of the pool.

 

“My house isn’t that big, Mar", Jesse turned his head and kissed Marcus' knee.

 

“Okay, maybe I took a nap? But I’ve been looking you for a while", Marcus shrugged as he skimmed his foot over the heated water.

 

“Get in with me”.

 

“But that would require me going upstairs to get shorts", Marcus sighed as he pointed to his fabric-clad leg.

 

“Trust me, you don't need clothes for what I have planned”, Jesse smirked.

 

He twisted his body toward the younger man and guided his head to his lips. Their kiss was like many of their others, soft and heated at the same time. There was no eagerness or speed when the two of them could be together like this, just alone, breathing in the other's scent. It was perfect. Jesse broke away first as his lungs burned, he rested his head into Marcus' knee.

 

“Get in with me?”, Jesse asked again. “I want to show you what the player of the month can do”.

 

Marcus laughed at the way Jesse threw that accolade around, as though it meant something between the two of them. Well it proved to all those fucks outside the safety of the team that thought their opinion of Jesse mattered. It didn’t, not to them. Marcus scooted back on the tiles as he pulled off his clothes, Jesse couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his face. He loved watching Marcus fumble with his clothing and throw it to the other side of the room. Marcus groaned as he slid into the warm water of the pool. Jesse didn’t even give him a chance to flex his muscles and swim, he pinned him against the wall, his lips travelling up and down his neck.

 

“Somebody’s eager”, Jesse grinned as his hand wrapped around Marcus’ semi.

 

Marcus huffed before he wrapped both of his arms around the older man’s neck. He guided their heads together and this time, the kiss was filthy. It was all tongue and teeth, their nails left behind crescent-shaped marks. That was another thing they loved to do: they loved to mark each other up. Sure the other lads took the piss out of them, but they did it to each other. The only person that they never said anything to was Juan, because Juan was just too pure to say anything too.

 

“What are you thinking about?”, Marcus wondered.

 

“Juan”.

 

“What the fuck?”, Marcus snorted as Jesse pushed him against the tile wall of the pool.

 

“Not like that, now shut up”, Jesse whispered against the younger man’s lips.

 

The kiss was searing explosion, it felt cliché to describe it as a thousand fireworks burning and spitting out rays of colour, mainly reds and golds, the colours of love and preciousness. And that’s what Jesse was to Marcus, he was the golden sun in the dark days and the golden sun in the best days. He was always happy and smiling, beautiful and kind. It was the greatest thing on earth. And Marcus relished in it. He relished in the attention that Jesse showered him in, the love and praise, the gentle touches and fleeting looks.

 

“You have that look in your eye”, Jesse smiled as he kissed down Marcus’ neck, nipping at the taut skin of the other man’s body.

 

“I’m just thinking about you. I love you”, Marcus grinned before he nipped at Jesse’s lips as they kissed again.

 

“I love you too, love. You’ll never know how much I love you”.


	108. Harry Kane/Luke Shaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I'm pretty sure I wrote this after the Anderlecht, so a long time ago, like a very long time ago. I found it and thought it was cute so here ye go. And we all know how the FA cup went...

When Luke walked through the door, the first thing he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for years - he was exhausted. Yet for some reason, the television was on, the match highlights were playing and a certain player was curled around the pillow. 

“Harry? Why the fuck are you in my house?” Luke blurted out as he sat down besides the striker. 

“Are you not happy to see me?” Harry yawned. 

“Very happy. Why are you here, though? You have to play on Sunday.” Luke kissed his forehead. 

“Honestly? I was coming to either commiserate with you or congratulate you; it’s the latter, thankfully. You played beautifully,” Harry complimented, moving to wrap his arms around the left back. 

“I’m exhausted, though. You have to go tomorrow?” 

“Around one - other than that, it’s cuddles and breakfast with my favourite guy. You?” 

“I’ll think about training when my alarm goes off. I don’t even know if I have enough energy to get into bed.” Luke scratched at his chin. 

“Well, why don’t we go there now?” 

“Chancer,” Luke grinned, standing up on jelly legs. 

Harry followed behind him, slipping an arm around his waist before he pressed a kiss into the back of his hair. Harry flopped onto the neatly made bed that wasn’t neat anymore, while Luke trudged off like a zombie on dead legs to do whatever.

Harry was nearly asleep when the younger man slipped in beside him. 

“Night, Lukey,” Harry whispered. 

He received a grunt in response before Luke curled around him like a cat, his head resting on the older man’s chest and giving Harry a nose full of hair. 

The next morning, the two of them were lying on the sofa once again, watching the UEFA draws take place. Luke was back in his customary position, lying on top of Harry. 

“So, FA Cup? That must be nice. Want to beat them for me?” Luke wondered as the Champions League draw finished. 

“I suppose.” 

“Thanks, love. You didn’t have to come last night - you know that, right?” 

“Course I knew that. I wanted to come, Lukey; I remember when you were here for me all of the times I needed you. Where else would I have been?” Harry grinned, dragging his fingers through Luke’s hair. 

“In London, and not having driven four hours? You must have been tired, and then you stay awake to watch the match,” Luke mumbled. 

“But then I get to snuggle up to you, so it’s completely fine. Love you, but I have to go after I see who you draw.” 

Luke dropped his head back to the older man’s chest before they watched the draw. Could United never play the first leg at home? 

“Love you, Lukey. I’ll knock Chelsea out for you, promise.” 

“Love you, too,” Luke replied before he kissed Harry softly, enjoying the warmth of his embrace for just a little longer.


	109. Christian Eriksen/Harry Kane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would have been requested a while ago by posyafternoon.

Harry was shaking as he walked into the changing room of Wembley. He didn’t want to play Christian, there was something about playing him; it unsettled Harry. Winksey, Dele, Eric and Kieran picked up on it instantly. There was a fear in Harry's head: What if he injured him? What if one of his teammates injured him? What if he outed both of them? There was too many thoughts running around in his head.

 

“Calm yourself, Kane. It’s ninety minutes of a friendly. A friendly, it doesn't matter who wins, although, it better be us”, Dele sat on one side, Winksey took the other side.

 

“But what if I hurt him? I’d never forgive myself”, Harry swallowed.

 

“Look at me, my little ginger nugget: You’ll be fine. Perfectly fine – you’ll make it through this no bother and then happy days. Now, me and somebody else, that won’t be fun, and we play on the same team”, Eric shrugged as he drank the water, it tasted like plastic.

 

“You worry too much, you’re starting to get wrinkles", Winksey grinned. He always could calm any of them down. It was the innocence, and that always made their hearts well up.

 

“I’m not getting wrinkles, the only reason I’d be getting them is because I have to deal with Dell Boi over here", Harry laughed at Dele's expression, it was one mixed with disgust and appreciation.

 

“I’ve got the swag", Dele pursed his lips before he stretched. That boy was more like a cat than a human.

 

“Alright, go purr in the corner, I need to talk to Eric", Harry shooed them as he pulled Eric to his side.

 

“Problem?”, Eric raised an eyebrow.

 

“Do me a favour and just go shift Kyle?”.

 

“Fuck off”, Eric muttered.

 

“Nope”.

 

Eric made a face before he punched Harry in the shoulder.

 

“Don’t injure the money maker”, Kyle called.

 

It was obvious the way Eric ignored him, they had shit to sort out.

 

Harry managed to make it through to the tunnel. He watched the way Dele and the rest of them hugged Christian, then it was his turn.

 

“You're worrying”.

 

“Sorry. Don’t score”, Harry grinned as he released the Dane.

 

“You too”, Christian had to stop himself from kissing the younger man’s cheek.

 

The match was fairly even, couple of shots on goal – the closest Harry got was a header that was tipped over the top by Kasper. The referee blew the whistle for half time and they trudged back to the locker rooms, their boots clanging against the floor

 

‘See, I told you that everything would be fine”, Eric threw a sweaty arm around Harry.

 

“So far. Where are Dele and Harry?”.

 

“Went to the bathroom. I just hope they don’t delay us like they did against Germany”, Eric sighed as he drank down the water. He was just so thirsty.

 

“You’ve a tick? I didn’t know you’d a tick", Harry grinned.

 

“I drink when I get nervous”, Eric shrugged.

 

They went back out to the pitch later. By the time the match was over, a nil-nil draw, Harry wanted to do nothing but slide into bed with Christian, but that wouldn’t happen. Instead, they met in the corridor.

 

“I told you not to worry", Christian whispered before he kissed Harry on the forehead. They both stank but it was the small things in life.

 

“Yeah, you’re always right, aren’t you?”, Harry smiled, his smile could light up a dark room.

 

“When we get back, I’ll show you just how much I missed you”, Christian nipped at his earlobe.

 

“Excuse me, I need to take this one, he’s a bit ripe and I’m sitting beside him on the bus", Eric coughed.

 

“I hate you".

 

“I’ll see you later. I love you”, Christian whispered before he kissed Harry.

 

Harry stood there for a moment and watched him walk away, Eric rolled his eyes before he dragged Harry into the changing room. His little Ginger Nugget was in very deep. It was adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are at the end.ill be taking a break for a few weeks but feel free to leave your requests here.


	110. Luke Shaw/Harry Kane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was written in the deepest pit of depression that I had been in for a while. This story is the product of that. I'm not saying this for sympathy or anything like that, I'm saying that if you feel at all like this for a prolonged period of time, talk to somebody. Know that it's not something wrong with you, that even in the darkest of nights, the sun always rises to light the way.

The room was dark even though the light was too bright. Everything was black – no, it wasn’t even black, it was grey, bland and boring and just so fucking disgusting. Just like Luke was. He was boring and not worth the air he breathed; half the time he didn’t think he should be on this earth, the rest of the time he thought he was too good to deal with the mediocre bullshit that surrounded him in. It was dark but too bright at the same time. It was hell on earth.

 

One day everything was fine, Luke felt normal; the next his mind was a blood-filled battlefield of self-loathing and destruction. One day he trusted Harry implicitly, the next he thought the older man was plotting against him. He thought his boyfriend of three years was plotting against him.

 

So now, Luke was holed up in his room, locking himself in his room just waiting for Harry to cut the ties. Luke feared abandonment, but another day he would relish being the only thing that mattered. Nobody else knew what it was like to be afraid of your own mind. Being afraid of your own thoughts was one thing, being afraid of your entire being, that was another.

 

So Luke sat and waited. He waited for the day that the emptiness would come and take him over for good. Where they would make him cut so deep that he didn’t even feel the pain anymore. He had always liked pain, it made him feel alive. It was the only thing that did.

 

Tears ran down his face freely now. He was weak as he punched the wall of his bedroom repeatedly, he punched and punched and punched until he couldn’t feel anymore. He didn’t feel the sting in his knuckles from where the skin had split and small smears of blood painted the magnolia walls.

 

Luke felt alive for the first time in a long time, he felt the thing beneath his skin burn and boil as he sliped down and cradled his hand to his chest as he sobbed. Loud and wet. Weak and pathetic. That was all he was, a means to an end. Pain was the only thing he could count on, it kept him alive, it kept him human. But there was one thing Luke didn’t have: an actual diagnosis. Harry had always said go to the doctor, but Luke was proud, too proud really. Pride had been the downfall of many an empire, but Luke couldn’t help it.

 

Luke stood up and found the bottle of vodka that was hidden in his sock drawer. It didn’t burn anymore, it didn’t even warm his cold body. Nothing did. Luke crawled into his bed and his eyes slipped shut.

 

Harry was terrified, he banged on the door to Luke’s bedroom door. He didn’t know why it was locked, but he feared the worst. He hadn’t seen Luke in three days, hadn’t heard from him or anything. Unfortunetly, this wasn’t an unusual anymore. It had worried Harry all throughout college; he had put it down to his anxiety, but now it was getting out of hand. Harry was terrified as he forced the door open. He was done playing now. He was done.

 

He was not ready for what greeted him. Luke was lying in his bed, bottles of beer and vodka were littered around the room, Luke was just lying there, motionless. Harry would have thought that Luke was dead unless he hadn’t seen the rise and fall of his well-toned chest.

 

“This ends now, Luke”, Harry shouted, he already had tears in his eyes.

 

“Not your life, Kane”, Luke snapped.

 

“No it’s not but I am losing my mind here. I’m losing you. I’m so close to leaving”.

 

“Then leave, everybody else has. Go on, be like Eric, Ben, Juan, Chris. Be like them. Leave me”.

 

“They didn’t leave you, Luke, you pushed them away. I’m not that easy. I love you, but my love isn’t going to help you”.

 

“I don’t need fixing”, Luke screamed.

 

“But you do need help. And there’s something wrong with your hand so will you get in the car with me and come to the hospital, or do I need to call an ambulance?”, Harry folded his arms over his chest.

 

Harry knew that he was being harsh, but that harshness was the only thing that got through to Luke during these dark moments.

 

“No”.

 

“Goddammit, Luke, fucking help yourself with me. I need you to be with me, I haven’t left yet, I’m not going to leave, I’d rather die trying to save you than lose you. So get the fuck up, put some clothes on and get in my fucking car or I will drag you there in your shorts”.

 

“Of course you wouldn’t leave me”, Luke snorted as he stood up.

 

They were both silent, Luke stood there with a smirk on his face as he stepped over the bottles. The car ride was silent. When Harry went to register Luke with the nurse, he looked at the nurse.

 

“Can you please get somebody to assess his mental state?”, Harry begged.

 

“I’ll put a note on his file. Wait for the triage nurse and then go to her”.

 

Again they were plunged into silence. Luke had tried to leave three times at that stage. He was finally called into triage.

 

“It’s definitely broken, but I’ll send you down to X-ray”.

 

Luke nodded with a smile on his face and headed down to the radiology department. It only took a few minutes before Luke was going to the casting area. When he was sitting there, a tall dark-haired man walked down to Luke and Harry.

 

“Can I speak to Mr. Shaw alone?”.

 

Harry nodded before he walked away; he stayed close enough to watch Luke. He saw the varying moitions that came across his face as the doctor spoke. Then minutes later, the doctor walked down to Harry and the nurse had started to put the cast on Luke.

 

“From that short consultation I can’t say what exactly is wrong with him, but it’s some from of Borderline Personality Disorder. How long has he been suffering with it?”.

 

“He said he’s felt like it since he was 14, so ten years. I’ve done my best to help him, but our relationdhip isn’t what it used to be”.

 

“That’s common. Make an appointment with this man. He’s a leading specialist and he’ll help. It’s not a death sentence, there’s therapies and medication that can help now”.

 

“Can I take him home?”, Harry wondered.

 

“Yeah – watch him closely, though, and keep him away from any alcohol or drugs. I hope you get this sorted; he, and you, seem like good people”.

 

Harry watched as the doctor walked away; the nurse had left Luke, but the younger boy was still sitting there. Harry knelt beside him.

 

“Harry, can we go home?”, Luke’s voice was so soft and vulnerable. It hurt.

 

“Yeah, love, let’s go home”, Harry kissed his hand as he stood up and placed another kiss to the top of Luke’s hair.


End file.
